


dream a dream

by lingeringdust



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Character Death, Depression, F/F, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4655811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringdust/pseuds/lingeringdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryocentric. Canon-AU. Ryoma falls and wakes up to another world -- one of magic, princes, and ghosts of the past. </p><p>A story about dealing with grief and coming to terms with self.</p><p>TW: alcoholism, depression, homophobia, character death (minor)</p><p>Note: I also forgot to mention that this entire thing is completely unbetaed. I'm so sorry...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. those you left behind

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a rewrite of one of my very old fanfiction that was published in 2007. It never got finished, but recently I made it a resolution to finish old projects. This old fic, titled Black Dream, was never published here on AO3, but on FF.Net, and it was one of my favorites to write. So I'm finally trying to finish it and it will be finished.
> 
> I currently have 14 chapters out of 17 or 18 chapters written and will post every week or every four days depending on how fast I write. 
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this.

**those you left behind**

 

A large half empty bottle of sake stood alone on the countertop. Beside the sake bottle is a day old worn newspaper, crumpled and stained with the remnants of grief. The words “prodigy” and “Echizen” could barely be read in the headlines through the tear stains and ripped pages.

Footsteps echoed, creating a slight disturbance on the wooden panels and contrasting the stillness in the dark.

“Ojii-san.”

Nanjirou Echizen sat still, back resting against the flimsy bamboo walls, but not enough to fall through.

Ryoga stopped in front of his father. He sighed and looked down, eyeing his father’s slumped shoulders and the way he seemed to be tired of everything.

“Want to go see him?”

Nanjirou looked up, staring blankly into the eyes of his eldest son. Then, he sighed, turned away, and moved to get up. Bones aching as he grunted, hands pushed against his knees.

“Of course,” he said. “Let me clean up a bit.”

Ryoga watched his father stumble back into the darkness.

 

*

 

The ride towards the hospital echoed the old Echizen household -- a sudden stillness had fallen between the two Echizen men. That stillness reminded Ryoga of the old Echizen home. Once large and even grande and filled with life, it now seemed to be too large, too big, too empty for a single person to live.

The nurses let them in, murmuring in soft tones about visitation hours and how there was one hour left before they closed for the night.

They enter. Ryoma’s room looked exactly the same as how they had left it a mere day ago. A pile of magazines -- all about tennis -- laid on the countertop from when Ryoga had visited yesterday night, waiting, hoping. There was a small duffle bag filled with tennis racquets hanging in a corner from when Ryoga first came in and had been left forgotten when they were kicked out of the hospital room. Flowers, gifts, and get-well wishes adorned the tables closest to Ryoma’s bed, all from adoring fans and friends.

Ryoma himself looked pale underneath the fluorescent lights. His dark hair splayed out underneath him, creating the look of a dark avenger. An IV tube trailed from his left arm, marking the skin where the needle was inserted an angry purple color.

He looked smaller somehow, swathed in sheets of white and shrunk underneath the covers.

Ryoga picked up the clipboard at the foot of the bed and scanned it. Despite not understanding any of it, he knew one thing -- nothing had changed.

Nanjirou settled into the chair across from bed, facing Ryoma’s prone body. His shoulders hunched, crumpling his yukata and making the wrinkles decorating his face look more prominent than ever.

A torrent of footsteps suddenly roared from the hallway, slowing and softening as it came closer to the door. It slid open.

On the other side of the door was a face Ryoga hadn’t seen in many years.

“I heard about what happened,” Momoshirou explained. Sweat covered his forehead as though he had run straight to the hospital after tennis practice.

“Any news?” said Kaidou, from behind Momoshirou.

Ryoga shook his head, then beckoned the two in. They settled on the ground -- there were no more chairs -- and stayed silent.

A few minutes more and the door slid open again. This time, Tezuka, Oishi, and Kikumaru appeared, all looking serious and much older.

“Did someone decide to host a party here?” Ryoga joked.

“The team’s on the way,” Tezuka answered.

Five minutes until the end of visitation hours, there were far too many people in Ryoma’s room. Nanjirou alone sat in the lone seat in the corner, quiet, and contemplative. The way he had been since his wife’s death. Tezuka stood by the window, leaned against the wall, arms crossed the way he had always done. Oishi and Kikumaru sat next to each other on the ground, on Ryoma’s right side. Kaidou and Momo sat as far away from each other as possible.

Inui came later and so did Kawamura. They stayed standing, keeping the room alight with soft-toned conversations about life after high school. The newspaper detailing Ryoma’s accident stayed clutched in Inui’s hand, his knuckles turning white with every passing second.

No one said anything about Fuji’s absence, but they all wondered.

They stayed there as long as they could. The nurses were gracious enough to extend their visitation hours for an extra hour on the condition that they wouldn’t fall asleep.

Easier said than done.

Ryoga herded them out an hour later. Everyone. As the hospital closed to visitors for the night, Ryoga looked back at his brother. He wished he had known, had done something, had talked more with his brother. He wished a lot of things. He looked away.

Inui had left the newspaper by the bed, the ends of the paper uncurling with each moment.

The door slid shut. The newspaper unfurled.

“Tennis prodigy Echizen comatose after fall” the headlines read.


	2. the first awakening

**the first awakening**

 

Ryoma woke.

Limbs sore and aching in places he hadn't known he could ache - surprising considering his status as a tennis player - he pushed himself up. The scratchy blankets fell from his chest, piling in front of him in a swath of brown. He yawned and stretched, feeling the familiar weight of his favorite bracelet hanging from his wrist.

Bamboo walls lined up around him and it was familiar and yet not. Old-fashioned paintings hung from the walls, decorated with ink paintings of birds and men and women dressed in ancient clothing. Clothing Ryoma only saw at museums and in textbooks.

"What the f-"

A door slid open, startling him into silence.

"Oh good, you're awake," Kikumaru said.

Ryoma gaped at him, then touched his wrist. He hadn't seen Kikumaru since he had graduated from Seigaku and moved onwards to Tokyo University, hadn't seen him or talked to him since. That and Kikumaru was currently wearing the oddest combination of clothing he had seen him wear - an old style yukata combined with strange markings on his face.

"I'll tell Oishi you're awake," Kikumaru continued. He set down a tray of food - fish and rice it looked like. "Then we can talk."

Not knowing what else to do, Ryoma nodded. Kikumaru slid the tray towards him and left, allowing Ryoma the space to eat.

Kikumaru came back a few minutes later, once Ryoma was nearly done with his food. Following behind him was Oishi, looking much older than Ryoma had ever seen him and wearing the same type of clothing Kikumaru was.

They sat down in front of him.

"Good to see you're awake," Oishi said. His voice is much deeper than Ryoma had remembered. "And I'm glad to see that you're okay - "

"We found you on lying on the side of the road," Kikumaru explained, "fortunately, you didn't seem to be hurt."

Ryoma frowned.

"I'm Oishi and this is my partner, Kikumaru," Oishi continued, shooting Kikumaru a glance that silently asked him why Kikumaru had announced that little bit of information, "we run the apothecary downstairs."

"I'm Ryoma," he decided to say. "I'm sorry - where exactly are we?"

"Not to worry," Oishi said, "it can be a little disorienting waking up after a long night's merry-making."

Kikumaru laughed. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

"We're actually not too far from Tokyo City," Oishi said, "in the small city of Sendai."

Ryoma nodded. Still in Japan, then. He stilled felt disoriented though, and very confused. Here were two upperclassmen who should have remembered him, but didn't. Instead, it seemed more like they were roleplaying feudal Japan than anything. He pinched himself.

Nothing.

"I don't understand," Ryoma said.

Oishi frowned.

"You didn't forget, did you?" Kikumaru asked. "Like hit your head and accidentally lose your memories?"

Ryoma almost laughed at Kikumaru's explanation of amnesia. He had stated it as though it were merely an inconvenience. Still, suddenly seeing an answer, Ryoma nodded.

"Now that I think about it, I can't seem to remember anything but my name."

Kikumaru and Oishi exchanged a significant glance. Years ago, Ryoma would have thought it was merely something doubles partners did, but after so many years of experience and getting to know people outside of Seigaku, he now knew that what Kikumaru and Oishi had was not normal for doubles tennis players.

"Well," Oishi said finally, "you can stay here while you try to get your memories back. Stay with old men like us," he joked.

"And if you still don't get them back, we'll help you find a way," Kikumaru said.

For the first time in many years, Ryoma could feel his old self welling up inside of him again. His old self, not the new tennis prodigy making headlines every time he so much as scores. His old self.

He smiled.

"Thank you."

 

*

 

Both Kikumaru and Oishi persuaded Ryoma to stay in bed, so he settled back into the rough blankets. He laid there for mere minutes, thinking and planning. An itch in his legs started to crawl up his skin. He needed to get up, he needed to run, to do  _something_.

He tossed the blankets off, the cooler air hitting his toes, and slipped downstairs, following after their trail.

"Ryoma-san!" Kikumaru said, startled behind a pile of barrels. "I thought we told you to stay put!"

Ryoma tried to look abashed, but knew he failed when Kikumaru didn't immediately lose his glare.

"I'm fine," he said instead, "I just need to walk around."

Kikumaru pursed his lips but stopped scolding him. He placed some scrolls that he had been rifling through on top of one of the barrels.

"Alright," he said as Ryoma eyed the scrolls, "just ask any of the neighbors if you need any help - oh and Oishi is asking the town doctor to stop by and check up on you."

Ryoma waved him off, feeling like he was twelve again and not nineteen.

Once outside, Ryoma felt as though he could breathe a little bit easier. The air quality seemed to be clearer, as though the fumes from the various plants, herbs, and powders created a toxic mixture that polluted the air. He made a note to bring that up to Kikumaru and Oishi.

The apothecary looked like it was placed on one of the busiest streets in the town. There were several people coming in and out of the main entrance, all looking towards Oishi for their needs.

Ryoma ducked into the crowd, hoping that Oishi hadn't seen him. He didn't need to be lectured twice in the span of five minutes.

Several people gave him curious looks as he kept walking eastwards and he was glad that Kikumaru and Oishi had lent him a traditional yukata for him to wear instead of his tennis uniform.

He stopped, almost causing a man behind him to run into him.

"Watch it!" the man shouted, but Ryoma wasn't listening.

What on earth had happened? One minute, he had been staring into the water and then -

A sort of recklessness had welled up inside him and then he was -

" _Okaa-san?"_

Ryoma shook his head and began walking again. From the corner of his eyes, the brilliantly colored flowers decorating the front door caught his eye. On top of the door was a sign - "Kawamura Flowers" he read. He went in.

It was as though he were back home. The flowers bloomed beautifully though some were still buds. And though most no longer existed back home, Ryoma could see their future variations. Or what he thought was their future incarnations. He still wasn't entirely sure where he was.

"Can I help you?"

Ryoma turned, a "no thank you" ready on his lips, but the words faded away as soon as he saw the familiar face.

Takeshi Kawamura stood in front of him, smiling with a sort of gentle pleasure that Ryoma had always associated with him. He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms.

And then, without even realizing it, Ryoma nodded.

"I'd like to get some flowers for my some relatives I'm staying at…"


	3. magical discovery

**magical discovery**

 

Kawamura gave him a discount because as soon as Ryoma had asked for flowers, he realized he didn’t have any money on him. Instead, Kawamura asked him to come tomorrow and help out with some errands.

 

“It gets busy and I’m the only one,” he said, shrugging helplessly.

 

“Of course.” Ryoma said, “I’d be glad to help.”

 

Kawamura grinned.

 

Ryoma ended up lingering in the store a couple more hours afterwards. Kawamura had been kind, asking him to rearrange some of the flowers or pick up the dead ones that had wilted away. But as the two of them chatted -- it had felt like Ryoma had never left his team -- Kawamura began to let him attend to customers.

 

“Where are you from?” Kawamura asked, suddenly.

 

Ryoma froze, but quickly remembered the story.

 

“I don’t remember,” he said. He tried to look sad, but he was honestly glad to get away from his fame for a little while.

 

Kawamura let out a noise of bemusement. “Did Oishi and Kikumaru from the Apothecary take you in?” he asked, knowingly. When Ryoma nodded, he snorted.

 

“I knew they were up to no good,” he winked at Ryoma.

 

“But I’m glad you found a place to stay for a while,” he continued. “They’re good people.”

 

Ryoma nodded. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured to himself.

 

Kawamura ended up shooing him away just after treating him to a lunch.

 

“You didn’t buy that many flowers,” he laughed.

 

For some inexplicable reason, he felt sad at that and offered to buy more.

 

“I’ll come back tomorrow though,” he promised, and was surprised to find that he actually wanted to do so.

 

Kawamura waved him off, smiling.

 

*

 

The time at Kawamura’s had helped Ryoma calm considerably; it had even taken his mind off being stuck in such a strange land and wondering if it had been the right decision.

 

Kikumaru actually jumped and hugged Ryoma when he saw the flowers, only managing to barely harm them. The flowers stood at the front of Oishi’s desk on the downstairs main entrance of the apothecary.

 

“Everyone who comes to buy from us will see it then!” Kikumaru said. Several people had already passed by and complimented the brightly colored flowers since.

 

Ryoma shrugged.

 

“Just a thank you,” he said, “since you two took me in when you could have left me there.”

 

Kikumaru stopped and his entire body seemed to soften and melt into something more genuine than the act he had been putting on since the beginning.

 

“Look Ryoma-san,” he said, “that’s something Oishi and I can never do. We were only doing what is right and taking care of others when they need help is what’s right.”

 

And for a minute, Ryoma had seen Kikumaru Eiji, one half of the Golden Pair at Seigaku. Eiji who had been so carelessly free and young but so caring at the same time. He could hear Eiji speaking.

 

_“Ochibi-san nya, you’re our Ochibi and we do what’s best for our team.”_

 

“Thank you Kikumaru-san,” Ryoma said.

 

Kikumaru gave him a friendly pat.

 

“Just ask us if you need anything,” Kikumaru said, “losing your memory can be rough.”

 

Ryoma nodded. When the conversation seemed to fall to a stop, Kikumaru moved away, heading towards the back of the store. Curious, Ryoma followed him.

 

Kikumaru said nothing as he held the door out for Ryoma, allowing him to enter a quieter, a darker room. There were several potted plants and even a small garden. Ryoma realized that they were in a greenhouse, built as an afterthought of the apothecary.

 

Ryoma frowned. When he had left the apothecary, it had looked much smaller than what this greenhouse obviously shown. And though the upper floor had looked rather precariously thrown on, there were some physics at work that Ryoma knew he could not explain. Yet --

 

And all thoughts of him being stuck in the past flew away as soon as Kikumaru waved a hand over the small garden and a light emitted from the palm of his head, leaving it and forming a spherical shape. It rose and rose until it hit the ceiling above the garden and stayed there, shining bright like an artificial sun.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

Ryoma stepped back, heart beating furiously. He tugged at his wrist, at his bracelet, snapping it. It fell. All of a sudden, it seemed to hit him that he was not home, he was not anywhere close to home. He was far and away and in someplace so foreign, there was fucking magic.

 

“Ryoma-san?” Kikumaru’s head appeared in Ryoma’s line of vision --

 

\--too close-- he thought to himself. He choked.

 

As though Kikumaru could read his thoughts, he backed away.

 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

 

Moments passed. The light dimmed and Kikumaru stayed out of his personal space, but within his line of sight.

 

“Ryoma-san?” Kikumaru murmured. His voice sounded small, soft, and a little afraid. “I’m sorry, I guess I thought you wouldn’t have lost your memory about magic.”

 

Ryoma gulped down air and lifted his head and it was only when he lifted his head that he realized he had been crouched down, heads between his legs, back against the wall. And it wasn’t until then that he had realized Kikumaru was offering him his bracelet. He took it.

 

“Do you need to get out of here?” Kikumaru asked.

 

He wasn’t sure. He wanted to get out of that room, but there was a part of him that was fascinated with the magic that Kikumaru had just displayed. A part of him that wondered at magic and wanted to know its possibilities. But he just… wasn’t ready.

 

“I need some air,” he said and got up, leaving the quiet room.

 

Oishi was helping a customer with something, reaching behind the front counter towards the shelves of animal parts and plants. With nowhere else to go, Ryoma found his footsteps heading towards the front counter.

 

“Pig’s ears to help the blood flow,” Oishi was saying, “it’ll keep you warmer for the upcoming winter.”

 

Ryoma pulled a stool closer and sat.

 

The customer smiled gratefully.

 

“Thank you,” she said, “it’ll be easier to keep up with the kids then.”

 

Oishi weighed out exactly 70 grams and packaged them into a neat parcel. He shoved the excess aside and placed the parcel in the woman’s hands.

 

“Will that be all?” he asked.

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

She handed over some coins and Ryoma watched as Oishi thanked her for her patronage and waved her good-bye.

 

He sat and watched Oishi deal with the customers. Sometimes, Oishi asked Ryoma to fetch him more of the lizard’s tongue or weed dust and Ryoma would. He mentally thanked Oishi for labeling each ingredient.

 

Once or twice, Kikumaru poked his head out from the back room, as if checking on Ryoma. When he was sure Ryoma was still around, he would disappear back into the greenhouse, presumably taking care of the plants.

 

The anger boiling up inside of him, the fear and anxiety that had been welling up, and his own uncertainty in his sudden displacement slowly seemed to melt away the longer he sat and worked alongside Oishi. Oishi seemed to understand his need for silence.

 

When the last customer left and Oishi began putting away the excess pig ears and other plants that customers did not want, Ryoma finally spoke.

 

“I didn’t realize there was magic here,” he said. He hadn’t realized people here relied on magic and he briefly wondered if magic would solve his problem.

 

Oishi stopped wiping the counter. He turned to Ryoma.

 

“That’s why you were troubled,” Oishi said. “Yes, there is magic here. I’m assuming you had forgotten.”

 

Ryoma nodded. “Kikumaru-san,” he almost stumbled over the honorific, nearly calling this unknown magical stranger senpai, “showed me.”

 

Oishi smiled and went back to cleaning the counter.

 

“Eiji’s like that,” he said. “He likes showing off and I guess he couldn’t help showing off his ability to make things alight with life.”

 

Ryoma said nothing about Oishi’s use of “Eiji.” He wondered briefly if Oishi even realized or knew what he was doing and he wondered if Oishi usually called him that in the privacy of their home. He toyed with his now-broken bracelet.

 

Seeing the snapped cord, Oishi shook his head.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. But he opened a drawer and found some twine and rope. He waved it at Ryoma, who shrugged, before twisting it together into a bracelet and handing it to Ryoma.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“It might help,” Oishi said.

 

Ryoma slipped it on, glad for some familiarity. He kept toying with the bracelet, wondering if it was worth it to tie it back up and wear it again or if it would be too small.

 

“Some people just don’t have magic and some are filled with it,” Oishi continued. “The average magic user has an ability, a small one. Eiji can make things light up and I can sense emotions, but there are others out there who have more useful abilities.” He laughed.

 

Ryoma smiled. Then, suddenly, he wondered if maybe someone here had accidentally brought him into this strange world.

 

“Is there anyone who can transport people?”

 

 


	4. family by choice

**family by choice**

 

Oishi frowned and looked up at the ceiling, as though it held all of the answers that would help Ryoma understand what was going on with his life. Then, following a silence, he shook his head.

 

“I don’t know anyone specifically,” he said. “But there are rumors that Prince Fuji of Sapporo could appear anywhere in the world at will.”

 

“Prince… Fuji?” Ryoma prodded. Fuji? Like Fuji Shusuke? He briefly wondered if he was seriously just dreaming and his subconscious was projecting significant people in his life.

 

“Well, ex-Prince,” Oishi amended. “He’s fallen into a deep sleep ever since that sorcerer went mad and cast a spell on him to imprison him in his own body.”

 

“Wait -- what happened?”

 

Oishi shook his head. “These are mostly rumors,” he started. “It’s hard enough getting word out about news, but when news about outlandish things such as imprisoning a prince through a spell gets out --”

 

Ryoma coughed.

 

“Anyway, apparently Prince Fuji had angered some the neighboring royalty when he chose not to invite them to a small gathering for his brother. In return, family employed a bounty hunter to teach him a lesson. Rumor is that they hadn’t realized the bounty hunter was in fact a sorcerer. So the sorcerer cast a spell on Fuji and Fuji’s been asleep ever since.

 

“There’s another version that states that the neighboring royalty did know what they were getting into. And there are more stories about how Prince Fuji had done it to himself. Others, it’s his brother that did it because he wanted to seize power. And then there are the stories that it was the Magic Snatchers that did it and because they stole so much of Prince Fuji’s power … Prince Fuji fell asleep in order to regain full power.”

 

“Either way, the four provinces that Prince Fuji had ruled over are now at war -- each one wanting more power.”

 

Oishi shrugged and finished putting everything away.

 

“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “Eiji and I have never left this city and don’t plan on it so I suppose we’ll never know.”

 

Ryoma looked away. At least this meant that he wouldn’t be seeing Fuji’s face anytime soon, he thought. Although he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing - considering the way they had parted the last time they saw each other.

 

“You’re really going to do this?” Fuji said. “Keep it inside you until you die? Hide away a part of yourself?”

 

Ryoma focused on tying his shoelaces, taking the time to meticulously knot it.

 

“Yes.”

 

The locker room was deserted and dark. Fuji stood over Ryoma, looking sad and weary at the same time. He let his arms fall against his sides.

 

“It’s going to overwhelm you someday,” Fuji said.

 

“It won’t.”

 

Ryoma knew he had sounded so sure of himself at that time.

 

“So there isn’t anyone else?” Ryoma asked.

 

Oishi shook his head. “Not that I know of,” he said. “But maybe the City Doctor would know -- he’s coming over later tonight to check up on you.”

 

Ryoma blinked in surprise.

 

“Oh,” he said, slightly unsure as to how to respond. Was there a way doctors here knew how to figure out if you were faking amnesia? “Thanks.”

 

*

 

Kikumaru apologized later that night, just after meals were made.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I should have made sure to tell you first.”

 

Ryoma nodded, but said nothing.

 

*

 

The doctor arrived later that night, looking achingly familiar. He placed his bags on the ground when Oishi came to greet him and when Ryoma walked closer and saw his face, he immediately recognized the taller man.

 

Dark hair stuck out in spikes, framing the familiar thick-rimmed rectangular glasses.

 

Inui stared at Ryoma.

 

“You must be Echizen-san,” he said, holding out a hand.

 

Ryoma took it.

 

“Hello Doctor,” he said.

 

Oishi led the two of them to the back of the store, closer to the greenhouse than Ryoma would have liked. It turned out that there was a small section closed off at the back for one-on-one consultations.

 

“I come by sometimes,” Inui explained. “Oishi-san and Kikumaru-san both have their medicinal arts studies done, but they like to have me come by from time to time for more serious cases.”

 

Ryoma sat behind a round table and Inui sat next to him. Oishi slid into the chair next to Inui and Kikumaru followed next to Oishi, looking even more morose than Ryoma had ever seen him.

 

Inui took out an assortment of instruments, ranging from something that looked like a scalpel to something similar to a magnifying glass.

 

“Ryoma-san, this is Doctor Inui. He’s the city doctor and he’s very good at his job,” Oishi explained.

 

“I may be magic-less but I know how to do my job,” Inui said, smiling. He picked up the magnifying glass and beckoned Ryoma closer.

 

A bundle of emotions suddenly seemed to crawl up Ryoma’s throat. He wondered if they would find out that he had been lying and wondered if he was dreaming. He scoffed at the idea of the magnifying glass looking into brain and also wondered if that was its purpose.

 

“How are you going to check?” Ryoma asked.

 

“Honestly?” Inui said. “I have no idea.”

 

Ryoma relaxed a little.

 

“I’ve never encountered an amnesia case before, but I’ve had plenty of concussion cases. I’ll check you for that.” He shrugged and placed the magnifying glass over Ryoma’s head, peering through the looking glass.

 

Ryoma wanted to ask what it was and how it worked, but couldn’t seem to find the words to ask. Thankfully, Oishi seemed to understand and spoke.

 

“What is that tool you’re using, Doctor?”

 

“It’s a Seeing Glass,” Inui replied. “I actually got it from a colleague. She had actually created herself and lent me a prototype to see how well it would fare.” He set it down and jotted some notes.

 

“It helps me see heat waves emitted by a person’s body.” Inui picked it up again and held it over Oishi’s arm.

 

The glass between the round metal swirled until it was completely dark. Then, hues of pink, purple, red, and blues began blossoming into little patches along Oishi’s arm. There were several patches of pinks and purples and far less reds and blues.

 

“Blue patches usually signify an abnormally cold area whereas red is abnormally hot. Concussions often leave swelling and that usually emits lots of heat,” Inui explained. He waved it over Ryoma. “And it looks like Echizen-san is recovering from a concussion, which is likely the reason for his amnesia.”

 

Ryoma relaxed. There was no way of knowing for sure then. Even so, if they had found out, what would be the harm, he wondered.

 

“Is there anyway to get his memory back?” Kikumaru’s voice suddenly spoke up, soft, and tentative.

 

Inui shook his head.

 

“I’m not sure -- I don’t have much of a background in brain medicine,” he explained. “Even so, it is a difficult field and much of the cures aren’t really cures.”

 

Oishi and KIkumaru deflated. Ryoma knew that whatever Inui told them wouldn’t even matter.

 

“However, my colleague -- the one I mentioned earlier -- well, she’s a noro and one of the very best. Perhaps she could help with Echizen-san’s memory.”

 

Ryoma startled, words erupting from the bottom of his throat and ready to speak, but he stopped at the look on Oishi and Kikumaru’s faces.

 

They looked at each other, ecstatic. A look that reminded him of his parents. He deflated.

 

“That’s great to hear,” Kikumaru said. “How do we get into contact with her?”

 

Inui frowned. “Unfortunately, she’s rather difficult to get a hold of. The best and for-sure way is to meet her at her office in Tokyo.”

 

“Meaning we’ll have to travel there,” Ryoma said, surprised. On the one hand, he could ditch Kikumaru and Oishi for Tokyo, reach this noro and maybe get actual help from her. On the other hand, he really did enjoy Kikumaru and Oishi’s company despite the rocky relationships he sometimes managed to find himself in.

 

“We’ll go together,” Kikumaru said. “The three of us, Ryoma-san, Shuihiro, and me.”

 

Ryoma spun to look at him, surprise written all over his face. He hadn’t realized how guilty Kikumaru must have felt, but it wasn’t like it was something he could have helped. It just happened.

 

“You don’t have to,” he said.

 

Oishi looked at Kikumaru and then shook his head.

 

“No Ryoma-san, it’s fine. We’ll go together. At least then, you won’t get lost.” Oishi grinned. “Or maybe you can help an old man like me get somewhere.”

 

Ryoma smiled, appreciated the concern they held for him and even wondered why on earth they would care so much.

 

“You only just took me in yesterday,” he protested. “You barely know me.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Kikumaru said. “You feel like family.”

 

Family. There was that word again. Fuji’s face came to mind, voice moving soundlessly as the wind rustled outside, casting a mysterious atmosphere in the background.

 

“We’re your family, too, Echizen,” he had said. “We’re the people you choose to be with and we choose to be with you, too!

 

“Don’t cut us out!”

 

Ryoma squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. It was far too late for to go back and change things and maybe he was only just trying to relive and erase his regrets, but what was the harm in pretending?

 

“Okay,” he said.

 

Inui looked from Oishi and Kikumaru and then to Ryoma. Then he smiled and reached into his bag.

 

“Let me get you the directions.”

 

 


	5. forgive & forget

**forgive & forget**

 

Kikumaru disappeared while Oishi preoccupied himself with the map, analyzing the every detail Inui could put in the piece of paper. He muttered to himself under his breath and made notes on another piece of paper, scratching his head and asking what Inui met by the hills beyond the castle whenever he didn't understand something.

"I should get going," Inui said, glancing outside. The sun had long set; the stars twinkled from outside, signaling the beginning of night. In the quietness, crickets began chirping.

Oishi nodded and made a move as if he wanted to walk the doctor out. But Inui shook his head, holding a hand up.

"Echizen-san can walk me out," Inui said, surprising both Ryoma and Oishi.

Oishi glanced at Ryoma, silently asking him if he was alright with the task, and Ryoma shrugged. It didn't really matter either way.

Inui pulled Ryoma aside and they neared the front door. Oishi had spent the first few seconds hovering anxiously before remembering that Ryoma was an adult and could care for himself. He waved a quick farewell and dived back into the maps.

"Echizen-san," Inui said, stopping right at the door. "I wanted to let you know that even though we have never met before, I feel as though you are part of this family."

Ryoma looked at Inui, but he kept his eyes pinned against the closed door. His throat felt dry and he swallowed, willing himself to say something, anything.

Finally, Inui turned to face him.

"Best wishes on your journey," he said. He squeezed Ryoma's shoulder and opened the door.

"Wait!" Kikumaru's voice came from the back. The younger man dove towards Ryoma and Inui, carrying a wrapped parcel in his hands.

Inui seemed to immediately understand what the parcel was and made a move as if to avoid it. He shook his head and waved his hands.

"No, Kikumaru, really, it's fine," he was saying.

Ryoma watched with amusement as Kikumaru shoved the large parcel into Inui's hands, forcing him to take the gift.

"I know you need it, Doctor!" Kikumaru said. "So just take it! On the house!"

Inui smiled, waving as he left, leaving behind questions lingering in Ryoma's mind and the concept of chosen families.

Kikumaru grinned at Ryoma. "Time to hit the sack."

 

*

 

The waves below him swayed, as if slowly beckoning him into its embrace. Despite the height, he could feel the sea salt spraying his face with every motion, chilling him from skin to bone. A part of him longed for the comfort of the waves.

The lamp above him flickered, distracting him. He glanced up, squinting in the darkness, squinting straight into the bright light. It stopped and remained steady. When he looked away, it went dark.

Time to go home, he thought, and readjusted the straps of his tennis bag. He could feel the tennis rackets jostling inside the bag, a sign that he needed to go out and get a new bag - this one was getting old. It had been with him for far too long. Long enough that he remembered getting it from -

He stopped that thought.

Ryoma tugged his cap down, low enough to cover his eyes. When the wind picked up, he shrugged his hoodie on, over his cap. He shivered. It was far too cold to be a summer Tokyo evening.

As he passed each street lamp, the lights flickered. Frowning and wondering briefly if it would start storming, he picked up his pace. The sweat covering his body from that evening's tennis game had long disappeared into chills; he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Ryoma?"

Startled, he spun around. There was no one behind him. He frowned, but now his heart's beating much faster than normal. He was so sure that he had heard someone - someone familiar. He turned back to his original route, much slower, and from the corner of his eye, he caught wisps of dark hair.

The tennis bag fell to the ground.

Ryoma gasped awake. Unlike the dream, hot sweat covered his body, dripping untamed as he tried to shake the last remnants of the dream away. He compulsively reached for his bracelet, but the rope and twine was jarring so he sat up and stayed there for a few minutes as he tried to breathe again. One, two, one, two. Inhale, exhale.

A dream? No, it wasn't a dream. He remembered distinctly what had happened though it seemed nearly impossible. But how? How on earth did he end up here? In a world that seemed to be impossibly existing?

He shook his head and rolled off the bed, groaning as he did so. The beds were not nearly as comfortable as the ones back home and though there were spelled to be softer, the magic used on the beds were wearing off.

"Not like they've actually had access to down beds," Ryoma grumbled.

He stuffed as much as he could in a small bag and carried it with him towards the kitchen, where Oishi and Kikumaru were both already awake and prepared. They sat around a round table, each with their own breakfast dish.

Ryoma walked in right when Oishi was moving away Kikumaru, a hint of red flushed across his cheeks. He looked guilty, as if he had been caught doing something wrong and knew he had to face the consequences. But Kikumaru looked no different. Despite this, Ryoma could see that their bodies were angled towards each other, almost as though they had been embracing, or in a way that Ryoma had only seen in -

"Morning Ryoma-san!" Kikumaru greeted. "Breakfast is rice and fried fish, feel free to help yourself!"

"Hope you like the traditional stuff," Oishi added, looking away.

Ryoma blinked.

"It's my favorite actually," he said and sat down.

Oishi and Kikumaru exchanged a glance, something that Ryoma can't quite read, but smugness had definitely radiated from Kikumaru's face.

"We're actually thinking about leaving just after breakfast, does that sound good to you?" Oishi asked. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get your memories back."

The sooner you can get rid of me, Ryoma thought.

"Doesn't that sounds great, Ryoma-san?" Kikumaru said. "You'll finally know who you are!"

Ryoma nodded, but chose not to add anything. He had momentarily forgotten that he was supposed to not remember who he was - which was slightly ironic.

"Will the apothecary be okay without the two of you?" Ryoma asked. "What about the town?"

"I've asked Inui to take care of some emergencies," Oishi explained. "And several other friends know how to get into the store and will help out with inventory. They've worked here before." Oishi added hastily when he saw Ryoma's face.

"Funny, you said you didn't think you'd be traveling much," Ryoma said.

 

*

 

 

Ryoma stopped by Kawamura's shop later after breakfast.

Kawamura was sweeping the floors of the shop, whistling under his breath. He wore a crown of flowers and looked happy as he could be.

"Kawamura-san," Ryoma greeted, "'morning."

"Morning Echizen-san, how are you doing?"

Ryoma hesitated. He hated doing this to kind Kawamura, who seemed to pleased to be getting help. Especially since he had given Ryoma the flowers for Oishi and Kikumaru.

"I thought I should let you know that I'll be traveling with Kikumaru-san and Oishi-san to Tokyo. I'm not sure how long I will be away."

Kawamura stopped sweeping and cocked his head.

"What's in Tokyo?"

"A noro," Ryoma said. He eyed the florist for any signs of anger or betrayal, heels at the ready to run at any moment but also wanting to stay and - and do what exactly?

But Kawamura merely nodded as if he understood.

"Okay," he said.

Ryoma paused. "Okay?"

He shrugged and began sweeping again.

"You're not angry?"

Kawamura stopped again and sighed. Then, he set the broom aside and stared straight at Ryoma.

"You know, I was a very angry boy growing up. I was angry at the very littlest things, how my mother would cook me the wrong foods or my father would buy me the wrong toys." He shook his head as if he were shaking his head at his younger self.

"My parents did everything they could and still, I was so angry. One day, that angry burst out of me, in the form of a literal flame.

"It burned down the entire house and my family with it."

Ryoma held his breath. He scrambled for words but they could not climb up his throat quickly enough and nor were they the right words to say.

"I'm still learning," Kawamura continued. "But I realized that anger can be powerful, if reserved for the things we really should be angry about."

"Like what?"

"Instead of getting angry at not getting the right presents, maybe I should have gotten angry at the fact that our Prince kept raising taxes every couple months. Or the fact that merchants had overfished in our seas we no longer had fresh yellowtail available."

He smiled, but Ryoma could see the touch of age against his lips.

"Just remember to forgive, alright? Even if it means forgiving yourself."

Ryoma stared at him, couldn't help but see him as his senpai and yet, at the same time, Kawamura wasn't.

"I'll try."


	6. journey north

**journey north**

 

They set out soon after. A rock had settled in Ryoma's stomach, aching him and reminding him of his half-lies and half-truths, rolling and tumbling throughout his entire body. It seemed to be working with the memories too, dragging Ryoma into the very worst of his nightmares. Yet Kawamura's words came back, echoing in the back of his mind. It comforted him to know that there would always be forgiveness.

"You okay?" Oishi called from above his horse.

"Fine!"

The horse underneath him gave a snort and swung its head, as if shaking it in doubt. Ryoma held on tight to the reins, hoping that the leather was not as slippery as he had imagined, and wondering if he would die by falling off a horse and being run over by one and if that was worse than a car accident.

Tokyo seemed far from Sendai and though Ryoma knew a four and a half hour drive was fairly long, traveling by horseback seemed even longer. It would take at least a week, Ryoma thought, if only because they had to stop and take breaks. Which meant they would be spending time outside. He groaned at the thought of camping.

About an hour into the journey, Kikumaru pointed out that they should stop for a break. They found a stream nearby and settled by it, Oishi and Kikumaru sliding off their horses with ease that only experienced horseback riders could do. Ryoma nearly broke an ankle getting off his.

Oishi grabbed their canteens and knelt down by the streams while Kikumaru took to tending to the horses.

Ryoma looked between the two and sighed, heading over to Kikumaru.

The horses seemed to like Kikumaru, neighing softly and huffing every now and then as Kikumaru whispered jokes to them. One butted Kikumaru's behind, eliciting an annoyed yelp of surprise.

"Whose horses are these?"

Kikumaru turned to Ryoma and then went back to the grooming the horses.

"They're from the ranch in town," he said. "Shuichiro and I had done the owner a favor so she's giving us a hand now."

Ryoma nodded and reached down for another brush. He went over to the one he had been riding - the angry chestnut with flaring nostrils. Guess he should at least get to know his new companion for the week.

"Tokyo's not too far from Sendai," Kikumaru said. "It'll only be about a two week journey - not too bad."

Ryoma nearly dropped the brush in shock - two weeks?

"O-Oh," he said instead, hoping Kikumaru hadn't noticed his stuttering.

But it seemed he had. Kikumaru turned to Ryoma and gave him an odd glance, as if he thought Ryoma were an alien or something similar.

Well, he's not wrong, Ryoma thought.

Kikumaru stiffened, and turned away.

As Ryoma watched Kikumaru walk away, he could see Fuji's back, mirroring the very same action so many years ago.

 

 

*

 

Sun rays peeked through the canopy of trees, filtering through the bright green leaves. Around the air, birds flew and chirped merrily, swooping down and narrowly missing a boy lounging against a tree.

Ryoma tugged his hat over his eyes to hide from the sun.

The grass nearby rustled, a sign that someone was there. Ryoma gave false snore, preferring to pretend to be asleep rather than bother socializing.

"Echizen-san, I know you're awake," Fuji's voice came.

From underneath the cap, Ryoma rolled his eyes.

"Come now, you wouldn't want me to wake you up like Sleeping Beauty, would you?"

Ryoma lifted his cap a centimeter.

"Fuji-senpai."

Fuji smiled. Then, he came closer and sat next to him, leaning, too, against the tree.

Ryoma stared at him, waiting for him to speak, but Fuji didn't. Moments passed and when Fuji still didn't bother to say anything, Ryoma relaxed into his previous posture and tugged his cap back over his eyes.

He woke quietly, easing himself away from the other two sleeping still - huddled together near a tall, hanging tree.

Ryoma leaned forward and dipped his hands into the stream, bringing up as much as he could to his face.

_Wake up wake up._

He ran a hand through his hair.

Ryoma learned to deal with the stillness.

The journey progressed in much of the same way as it had started; quiet, calm, and rather uneventful. Oishi spent much of the evenings poring over Inui's detailed drawings and scrawling directions while Kikumaru made sure they had light whenever they needed. The three of them all contributed to the cooking, cleaning, and putting up the tent - not that it was needed. It turned out that Oishi's ability to help regulate emotions actually put living beings to sleep if they were small enough and got near him, so they were never bothered by bugs, insects, or rodents crawling around the area.

Mornings and days were spent traveling. Some days, they were left entirely alone; the three of them would be stuck together, meeting no one on their path towards Tokyo, and stuck to the same, tireless conversations. Though Ryoma knew that Oishi and Kikumaru probably just didn't know how to talk to an amnesiac.

Other days, they ran into strangers. Merchants who were traveling from one place to another stopped by to ask if they would like some salt for purchase. Traders who offered to trade thick, expensive coats of fur. Farmers who offered fruit and directions.

They often refused, carrying very little money aside from what they needed. Once or twice, Ryoma was tempted to buy some salt - some of their cooking was much too bland for his tastes. Though the fish Kikumaru always managed to catch tasted like home.

"Think you have magic, Ryoma-san?" Kikumaru said one afternoon, about a week into the journey.

The horses clobbered on, huffing and swaying in the light of the day. Their manes ruffled in the wind.

"I'm not sure," Ryoma said. "I don't think so." He was fairly certain that he had no magical abilities, unless you included his tennis-playing abilities.

"Why are you so certain?" Oishi asked from up front, holding out a compass and the map.

Ryoma shrugged when Oishi and Kikumaru were looking at him and then let the silence hang in the air among them. When his two companions realized that he planned on saying nothing more, they exchanged a glance and changed the subject.

"Are you excited to see Tokyo?" Kikumaru asked.

Before Ryoma could answer, the sound of speeding gallops filled the air around them, accompanied by furious neighs and whines from other horses. Oishi pulled his horse to a stop and Kikumaru and Ryoma followed.

"Oishi-san?" Ryoma said.

"Shhh-"

Screams followed the growing sounds of gallops. Ryoma turned and behind him, there was a group of men, all dressed in old, rusty armor, and swinging long, lavish swords, dashing towards them. Their faces stayed contorted as they let out a battle cry.

"Bandits!" Kikumaru hissed.

There was not second to waste as the three of them immediately jerked their horses into action, pulling and whispering to the horses to go faster and c'mon, please. Their horses ran through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and passing by numerous streams. Without Oishi keeping track of the way they were going, they were soon going off their intended path.

"This way!" Kikumaru yelled suddenly and veered his horse right, off the path. Oishi and Ryoma had no time to think and so they spun and followed.

The screaming and gallops were already fading fast.

"Left!" Kikumaru shouted again. He tugged his horse, pulling it into a slight left, around a mountainous bend.

Ryoma huddled close to his horse, hands tight on the reins, tight enough that his knuckles turned white with tension. He kept a firm grasp on the horse, too, with his elbows, and kept his feet as steady as possible, body tight and tense. Hoping he wouldn't be thrown off.

They kept running, never taking the chance to look behind them. Kikumaru periodically called out directions, as if he knew that the multitude of directions would lead them further away from the bandits, but also away from their destination.

The sounds slowly faded away and soon, none of them could see any signs of the bandits.

"I think we lost them," Oishi said.

He sounded a little out of breath and even looked slightly dazed.

"Let's stop for a break," Kikumaru said. Then, he nodded behind Oishi. "I can see a stream over there."

They slid off their horses - Kikumaru and Oishi much more gracefully than Ryoma - and stumbled over to the stream, tugging their horses in hand.

Ryoma felt sore and slightly disoriented. After about a week of riding easily on a horse, the sudden change to a fast-paced run jarred his body and left it sore in places he hadn't felt sore in months.

The cool water felt nice as he downed it, gasping for more as he realized how thirsty he was. He fell back and laid on the ground, relishing the release of tension from his shoulders and back, how it suddenly seemed like such a relief to do nothing.

"T-The map!" Oishi suddenly yelped.

Ryoma pushed himself up just as Kikumaru asked him what happened, in time to see horror flood Oishi's features.

"I-I must have - it's gone," Oishi said, "it must have fallen out when we were running from those bandits."


	7. running lost

**running lost**

 

_Ryoma felt numb as he watched Ryoga lean down, pulling their father up from his knees. He could barely feel himself, his thoughts, his fingers, his entire body as a coldness swept through him. He blinked and watched his father fall again._

_Nanjirou kneeled, leaned heavily against the headstone. Engraved in the headstone next to Echizen Rinko was Nanjirou's own name._

_The brush dangled between Nanjirou's fingers, teetering off his weary bones as he tried to make it move it across the kanji, painting "Nanjirou" black one kanji at a time. Ryoma briefly wondered Ryoga would be the one wiping it off when Nanjirou's time came - or if Ryoga would leave again._

_People passed by them. Each person seemed to blur into the next, becoming one giant mass of pity and empathy. Their hands touched Ryoma, patting his back, his shoulder, his head. Ryoma's body was no longer his for the time being._

_"Can't believe it…" someone was saying as Ryoma passed by them, towards his father._

_"What else did you expect?" someone else said._

_A man grunted, sounding like a cross between a chuckle and mortification._

_"What - with him drinking all day?"_

_"Let's go," Nanjirou said._

_Ryoga said nothing as he helped his father up, motioning for Ryoma to do the same. But Ryoma couldn't move his body, he couldn't. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't function at all. The words that man said echoed in the back of his mind as the distance between his father and Ryoga and him extended each passing minute._

_All he could think about was the flashing lights and the deadly screech of tires as Nanjirou swerved and braked._

Ryoma stopped breathing. Without the map, they would have no clue how to get to Tokyo. To make matters worse, they didn't even know where they were - the run from the bandit had made sure that they were lost and even though they still had the compass, all they could do was pick a direction and hope for the best.

But it meant he would spend more time here.

Kikumaru stared at Oishi and Oishi stared back, horror written all over his face. He held out his hands as though he couldn't believe that they were empty, that he lost the key to helping Ryoma.

Not that it would have actually helped Ryoma. Part of him wanted to confess right there, tell them that he actually didn't have amnesia, but still had no idea where he was. But then, what good would that do? Inui would probably send them right back to the noro, only now, they would be a few weeks behind.

If they could actually figure out how to get back to Sendai.

"It's okay, Shuichiro," Kikumaru said. He clapped a hand on Oishi's shoulder, pulling the other man close. "We'll figure it out." Then, he looked over at Ryoma.

Ryoma nodded.

"It's fine," he said. "We could-" his brain scrambled for something to hold onto, something tangible. "We have plenty of food and we could easily find water."

Oishi gave him a small smile, gratefulness rolled off him as he moved away from Kikumaru.

"The two of you are right; there's no sense in moping about it. Let's figure out how to get somewhere."

Kikumaru grinned and gave Ryoma a nod when Oishi wasn't looking.

"Let's head this way!" he suddenly said, pointing in what seemed like a random direction.

With nothing else to lose, Oishi and Ryoma shrugged and followed Kikumaru deeper into the forest.

 

 

*

 

Leaves crunched underneath Ryoma's soles. He wiggled his toes from within the shoes, adjusting to the feeling of it. It was oddly comfortable. He had thought that maybe it wouldn't be because he was stuck in such a backwards time, but perhaps because of the proliferation of magic in the time, the shoes had been spelled.

He trudged after Oishi and Kikumaru, who stumbled through the woods. They leaned against each other, not heavily, but enough that Ryoma could tell.

Oishi looked tired though it had only been an hour or so since their run from the bandits. He yawned and when Ryoma finally took the time to look at the sky, he was startled to find gloomy clouds rolling in.

"Let's settle for the night," Kikumaru said.

Oishi barely said anything as he nodded and rolled out the night gear. The coverings for their shelter went up and Oishi began pulling out their pots and pans. He handed Kikumaru an axe.

"Come on Ryoma-san," Kikumaru said, swinging the axe over his shoulder. "Let's go."

Ryoma grumbled under his breath, but followed after Kikumaru, ignoring his aching feet. They managed to find a dying tree not too far from where they had began setting up and Kikumaru began cutting into it.

They took turns chopping into the dead tree. Sweat poured from Ryoma, causing his shirt to stick to his back. It reminded him of home and of tennis and the adrenaline that rushed through him and the pure euphoria of playing tennis. It reminded him of the joy he had once felt; the blisters and the calluses.

Ryoma finished.

"Looks good, Ryoma-san!" Kikumaru was saying. He gathered a few into his arms and Ryoma did the same.

"Don't know what Oishi and I would have done without you," Kikumaru said. "We're both getting old and our backs are getting weary - no way we could have gotten this much firewood without you! And imagine having to do that every day during the winter back home! Ahhh~ I don't think I would be able to manage to do it by myself!"

"There's Oishi-san," Ryoma said.

Kikumaru gave Ryoma an assessing look and then turned away.

"Right, but you know how he is, the old farty-pants - always complains about his age!"

Ryoma stifled a laugh as Kikumaru continued to complain about Oishi's odd obsession with his age.

And when Oishi looked up as they approached, Ryoma and Kikumaru exchanged a grin.

Later, Ryoma laid back on the makeshift bed, bones weary and muscles sore, but feeling good. Behind him, he could hear Kikumaru snoring through the curtains and Oishi's body rustling around. The wind blew through the crevices between the blankets hanging around them, causing Ryoma to shiver.

Despite it all, Ryoma smiled as he fell asleep.

_Fuji came back the next day and the next and the day after that._

_Every afternoon, Ryoma would spend the hours between the end of classes and the start of tennis practice lounging around his favorite tree, taking power naps or letting his mind wander. Some days, he would head straight to the courts, taking out frustration or boredom at the balls._

_Those days, Fuji played against him and the two of them would start a quiet rally. Neither one of them would speak._

_The weather was getting colder; the leaves fell from the trees, landing into neat, colorful bundles. Ryoma still found time to take his power nap against the tree. He shivered, clutching his varsity jacket closer._

_Footsteps crunched on the leaves, signalling Fuji's arrival._

_"Echizen-san," he said. "It's far too cold to be out here."_

_Ryoma didn't say anything._

_With a sigh, Fuji settled down next to Ryoma. As the air grew colder, Ryoma unconsciously shifted closer to Fuji, wanting to be closer to another source of heat._

_"Come on, let's play a round," Fuji said._

_Grumbling, Ryoma let Fuji help him stand up and suddenly he was aware of the lack of feeling in his legs. A numbness had begun settling in his bare skin, causing him to nearly fall over._

_Fuji caught him as he toppled over._

_Ryoma grunted as he pushed himself away. His face felt much warmer than the rest of his entire body; the blood roaring in his ear drums and the way his heart seemed to thud very heavily against his ribcage didn't help either._

_He shook it away._

_And if anyone asked afterwards, Ryoma would deny it, but Fuji held onto his elbow, guiding him towards the courts until Ryoma could feel his legs again._

 

*

 

Kikumaru's intuitive directions somehow managed to lead the three of them towards a town nearby. From the edge of the forest, looking past a clearing, Ryoma could see the tops of houses, light puffs of smoke rising up from the villages, and the tell-tale chatter of life.

Oishi cast Kikumaru a grateful glance that Ryoma read as amazement because despite being lost and being chased away from their destination by the bandits, they had somehow managed to find someplace. A place to get their bearings and a place to rest safely.

A sign welcomed them as they entered through the front gates, lettering neatly painted onto the old wooden panel reading, "welcome to Shirakawa." Beside the side, the archway surrounding the entrance looked new and polished in contrast; its doors looked perpetually opened and welcoming. A passerby cheerfully greeted them and went on their way.

None of them had ever heard of Shirakawa although Oishi mentioned that the place sounded familiar.

Kikumaru and Ryoma both wanted to explore a little while, but Oishi pointed out that they should find a place to settle for the night. Gather information, ask some questions, and rest.

"We should stick together," Oishi explained, looking worried.

Neither of them argued with that.

Ryoma trailed along after Kikumaru and Oishi, taking in the sights and sounds of the new town. It was different and similar to Sendai - not the Sendai he knew - but the Sendai this Kikumaru and Oishi had lived in and perhaps had grown up in. Both towns had the same hustle and bustle atmosphere, the busy-ness of villagers running errands and going about their daily life. Not like it was different from Ryoma's world, but well. There was something about it.

Perhaps it was the way that woman standing by the entrance of a shop would wave her hand and disappear in a blink of an eye, reappearing with an armful of parcels. Or the way that man over by the horses seemed to understand the animal's thoughts and feelings, reassuring the horses in a way that only those who could speak to animals could. Or perhaps it was the way the blacksmith could effortlessly mold a new sword in a matter of minutes.

And yet, Shirakawa was different. There was a slight loose atmosphere in the area and cheerful, too. Everything felt welcoming and everyone seemed to know everyone. And everyone seemed to trust everyone.

They found a place in the upstairs of a small, dingy, but popular bar called The Snake. People meandered in and out of the lively room, music filtering through the crowd. Despite it all, the rooms cost very little and was located in a rather quiet area.

"Nya~ I'm feeling a little tired," Kikumaru said as they settled in their room. After the weeks long camping trip with the three of them, Kikumaru felt that there were no boundaries so Ryoma ended up sharing a room with both Kikumaru and Oishi.

Kikumaru let himself fall onto the bed.

From the other side of the room, Ryoma watched warily and then shook his head.

"I think I'm going to go explore the town," he said. Kikumaru may have felt that they were closer than ever, but Ryoma felt as though he needed some privacy.

"I'm feeling rather tired myself," Oishi said very carefully. "Eiji and I may go downstairs to the bar for a drink later on. Come find us there afterwards?"

"Sure thing," Ryoma called as he shut the door behind him.

He passed through the throngs of people heading inside the bar. With the afternoon coming to a close and evening heading closer, more and more people began opting for indoor activities.

Ryoma shook his head. But there were several outdoor activities that were going on, he realized as he passed by several stands. There was a gathering of people, a small grouping, who stood together fanning themselves as they watched a puppet theatre lit up by candles.

He stopped for a little bit, settling in the back to enjoy the story.

"Whatever shall I do?" the old man-puppet cried. "My youngest son has been disappeared and I have no way of knowing his wellbeing!"

His wife-puppet moved closer to the old man. The ends of her paper kimono moved in a motion that Ryoma guessed was supposed to be her comforting him.

"Do not worry my dear husband," she said. "He will come back to us when he is ready."

Ryoma tore his eyes away from the scene and got up.


	8. two truths & a lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out chapter 4. I replaced it after making some edits. This is what happens when you don't finish the story before posting... on the other hand, I now have 19 chapters written!

**two truths & a lie**

 

_The tennis bag laid on the cement ground, forgotten. Ryoma stepped back, letting the street light bathe his entire body in its brightness. His hands automatically reached for the railing behind him, immediately tightening his hold on it, letting the coldness seep into his body._

_"Okaa-san?" he gasped._

_She looked pale and thin underneath the street lights. Her hair, normally cut short, looked stringy and dead and wet despite not being wet or alive. There were bags underneath her eyes, heavy and pronounced and purple, making her look older than she actually was. Her lips were cracked. Heavy deep-set lines carved into the flesh, but she wasn't bleeding._

_Rinko looked like death._

_"Ryoma," she whispered and a cold, dead hand reached out towards him._

Ryoma was itching to leave, to be in Tokyo already and find answers. He wanted to talk to the noro, not about his supposedly amnesia, but about his place in this odd backwards-in-time world with magic. He wanted to know how he got there and why. But most of all he wanted to know if it was his mother he really saw. And if so, what had actually happened.

Night fell; villagers began leaving the darkness of the streets for the warmth and comfort of their homes. Merchants and street vendors gathered their supplies and merchandise and became disappearing back to wherever they had come from.

Ryoma headed back towards The Snake, willing it to be daytime again so they could set out for Tokyo once more.

In contrast to the activities outdoors, the bar was already filling to the brim with people. Crowds of people were waiting to get a seat inside its dining halls, forming a staggered line from the door and out. Ryoma had no trouble getting in though, but only after showing his room key.

Chatter filled the entire restaurant as servers mingled throughout the tables. Ryoma spotted Kikumaru and Oishi over by the bar and headed straight towards them.

"Ryoma-san, there you are!" Kikumaru said. "We were worried you got lost or ran away when you didn't come back," he joked, giving Ryoma a wink at the end.

Ryoma shook his head, amused, but said nothing as he slid into the stool next to his senpai-lookalikes.

There were a couple of empty ceramic cups in front of the two and Kikumaru even looked slightly flushed, though Oishi looked normal as could be.

"Have the two of you been here the entire time?" Ryoma asked.

"Of course not!" Kikumaru said. He looked affronted at the suggestion that they had drunk the evening away.

"There are a couple of Go games in the back," Oishi said and then looked at Kikumaru. "Turns out that Kikumaru is a little rusty with all of the drinks he's had."

Kikumaru waved him off. "Ryoma-san!" he suddenly said as though something had just occurred to him. "You need to meet the bartender! He's got a really cool skill!"

"Yeah?"

Ryoma watched nervously as Kikumaru waved over at the bartender, standing in the far corner and hidden behind throngs of people. When the bartender came closer, Ryoma's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the familiar green patterned bandana decorating dark hair.

Kaidou came into view, looking disgruntled at the crowds of people.

"Kaidouuuu!" Kikumaru was saying and waving him over. He turned to Ryoma, looking very much like an excited puppy, and pointed to Kaidou. "Look at this, Ryoma-san!"

"I can eat four servings of rice for breakfast," Kikumaru said.

"Truth," Kaidou said, sighing. He wiped the countertop absently.

"I can eat fish everyday," Kikumaru said.

"Lie," Kaidou said.

An uneasiness slowly filled Ryoma as he watched the two of them interact, watching as Oishi smiled with a pleasantness that cut into his lie.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Kaidou here can actually tell truth from lies," Oishi said. "It's one of the parlor tricks at this bar, apparently."

Kaidou grunted and then shrugged.

"Gotta keep them coming somehow, right?" he said.

"Oh! Kaidouuuu! This is Ryoma-san," Kikumaru suddenly said, pulling Ryoma over. "Shuichiro and I were just talking about him - he's the one we found, the one with amnesia?"

Kaidou turned to Ryoma, leaving his dirty rag on the counter. He gave him a nod and the two of them stared into each other. His eyes bore into Ryoma's, as though pinning him down in his lies.

"'The one with amnesia?'" Kaidou echoed. "That's a lie if I ever heard one."

There was a brief pause as the words slowly sunk past Kikumaru's tipsy state, past Oishi's trusting shell, and then all at once, the both of them turned to Ryoma.

Thoughts, excuses, stories ran through Ryoma's mind as he frantically thought of anything - something - to appease his old senpai. But he already knew what was the best course of action.

Oishi's eyes were large and pleading, as though he couldn't quite believe Ryoma. But Ryoma could see that the two of them were already wary; their bodies had move back a little bit, heavy and guarded. Mistrust and disbelief hung in the air.

Even Oishi took a step back.

Not knowing what else to do, Ryoma nodded.

Oishi looked away and Kikumaru immediately turned to rage.

"You-! We found you on the streets! We took you in!" Kikumaru said. His hair looked messy and wild, a complement to how his body moved irregularly with each jabbing word. "We took care of you and you lied to us? Spat on our words and our home and our dignity?"

"Ryoma-san," Oishi said. There was a flicker in his eye as he glanced over at Kaidou as if checking for a reaction, checking to see if Ryoma had even given him his real name. "What are you hoping to achieve exactly?"

Kikumaru quieted, but still looked angry. Redness flushed his cheeks, a combination of the anger spilling out of him and the warmth of the alcohol still running through his body.

"I didn't know what else to do," Ryoma said quietly and the truth spilled out. He told them about waking up in Oishi and Kikumaru's home and finding out that everything was foreign. He told them about how his life did not involve magic or taking two weeks to travel from Sendai to Tokyo, or how they did not have to worry about shopping for fresh food every meal time.

And he told them about his life. First, it was about tennis because tennis was his life. And then he talked about his family - his father, his brother, and of course his mother. He talked about them, but didn't speculate on how he had crossed worlds.

"The last thing I remember was walking home at night," Ryoma said. "I decided to take a shortcut, over a bridge. And then I woke up in your house."

Silence fell among the group. Kaidou watched the others and when no one said anything still, Ryoma looked to Kaidou.

"Tell them," Ryoma said. "Tell them I'm telling the truth."

Kaidou narrowed his eyes, but gave him a short nod.

"He is," Kaidou said. And Ryoma was thankful that Kaidou hadn't said anything about his neglect to mention his fall.

"I just want to find some answers," Ryoma added lamely. He shut his eyes, waiting for something - waiting for an angry punch or a slap to the cheek.

But anger had completely melted from Kikumaru now; he looked appeased and sad and worn at the same time. Without another word, he launched himself at Ryoma, wrapping octopus arms around the young man.

Ryoma slowly allowed himself to embrace the other man.

"Ryoma-san," Oishi was saying. "Thanks for sharing that," he said. "I suppose you might have thought we would kick you out for lying and I don't blame you."

Kikumaru backed away, nodding.

"It is an outrageous story," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

They smiled at Ryoma and at once, the anxiety that had been pooling inside him and welling up slowly eased away. He let the tears fall.


	9. complicated relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've finished writing everything now and just need to update. From here on out, I'll be updating dream a dream on Wednesday evenings (USA central) and Sunday evenings (USA central) so twice a week you'll get a new chapter! There's a total of 20 chapter so this is already almost halfway done. I would totally love feedback, also, since it'll help me become a better writer. However, I won't be editing or revising this fic anymore as it is done and I am ready to put this fic aside once all chapters are online. The feedback, however, is always appreciated and I'll keep it in mind for future fics/stories.

**complicated relationships**

 

_Chopsticks clicked absently. Ryoma held his pair hovering above the bowl of plain white rice, hovering hesitantly at the various breakfast choices. He avoided the natto and made a beeline for the tamagoyaki instead._

_Across from him, his mother sat, slowly chewing on her own breakfast. Her hair piled high above her head into a tight bun, an aftermath of the creation of breakfast. Nanjirou and Ryoga were nowhere to be seen._

_"Are you nervous for your first day of junior high school?" she asked._

_Ryoma shrugged and continued eating._

_She didn't seem to mind; perfectly content with the shrug._

_"Ryoma-" her voice had adopted a more serious, something that caused Ryoma to pause and look up._

_"'Kaa-san?"_

_She smiled._

_"You do know that no matter what you do, where you end up, or who you choose to be, you'll always be Ryoma, right?"_

_The sentence seemed to have come out of nowhere, startling Ryoma and nearly knocking him off his axis. There was an instant reaction to shut down the conversation as fast as possible, to tell his mother off - that boys don't talk about their emotions - but he saw the seriousness in her face and expression. The way she held herself, open and inviting, because she cared._

_"Of course, 'Kaa-san," he said, bowing his head._

_The words, of course, would later be forgotten._

 

_*_

 

Morning rose once more and Ryoma found himself dragging his feet downstairs to the dining area where Kaidou was already manning the bar. Despite the early hours, it looked like there were already a few people mingling around, asking for a drink.

Several others were seated at the dining area, the restaurant part of the inn. Breakfast laid out in front of them, a plethora of traditional Japanese food.

Ryoma mourned the loss of the morning training for tennis, but his mouth watered at the sight of breakfast - it looked different than what Kikumaru had usually cooked up (which was whatever they could find honestly).

Kikumaru was already seated at a table so Ryoma made his way towards his traveling companion.

After last night's talk, he had wanted to give some room so they headed their separate ways for the night. Ryoma had spent the entire evening wondering if they would even want to continue the journey - after all, Kikumaru and Oishi only offered to tag along because they had thought he was amnesiac. Eventually though, Ryoma had fallen into a restless sleep sometime in the early hours of the morning.

Kikumaru, on the other hand, looked well-rested.

"Ryoma-san, good morning!" he waved Ryoma over.

As Ryoma sat, Kikumaru immediately launched into excited squeals over the inn's accommodations and the excellent quality of the food.

"The bed was so fluffy - I swear I was sleeping on air!" Kikumaru was saying.

Ryoma thought it was like one of those dorm mattresses schools used, which was to say, he didn't quite agree.

Kikumaru ended up splitting some of his breakfast with Ryoma and when Ryoma finished, promptly ordered another two platters.

"Where's Oishi-san?"

"Still sleeping," Kikumaru answered, smiling. "He gets a bit tired with exercise." He winked.

Ryoma rolled his eyes and wished Kikumaru hadn't mentioned that.

Kaidou dropped by, fidgeting on his toes as he teetered between the two. His eyes swam back and forth past Kikumaru and to Ryoma and back again.

"You two okay?" he asked.

Kikumaru waved him off. "No worries," he said. "You actually did us some good."

"More than good," Ryoma added. "This means I didn't have to tell them myself."

Kaidou seemed a little bit more at ease with that statement. With very people hanging around the inn, he lingered around them, trying to add little extra bonuses to their breakfast.

"Where are y'all heading anyway?" he asked.

"To Tokyo," Ryoma answered. "Originally, it was to see a noro who was said to be able to help my amnesia, but I'm hoping he would be able to help me find some answers."

From the corner of his eye, he tried to gauge Kikumaru's expression to determine whether or not Oishi and Kikumaru would also be going. He wouldn't really know what to do by himself.

"We got a little bit lost," Kikumaru admitted, "after running into some bandits, we ran and ended up here."

Kaidou nodded. "Well, if you're still trying to make your way to the noro, I have a friend who might be able to help - he's a blacksmith in Tokyo but often travels here for business. Let me wave him over."

And he thrust an arm up in the air and waved over at the bar, bellowing out in a deep voice:

"Oi Takeshi!"

When Momoshirou Takeshi lifted his head and into view, Ryoma wondered if he would be seeing all of his teammates' identical faces staring back at him with blank stares until he got back.

 

 

_*_

 

_"Were you and Sakuno-chan ever…?"_

_Ryoma shook his head and then shrugged, trying pointedly to ignore Fuji's unblinking stare. The two of them sat side-by-side, against the same tree Ryoma had been taking naps at. It had become their spot, their place for some peace and quiet, and undisturbed rest. And at the same time, it had become a spot where they could talk, share stories._

_Ryoma had begun to like Fuji as more than a skilled tennis player and a senpai._

_"No," he said. "Never. I don't think I even have time for dating."_

_Fuji chuckled._

_"Then I presume you and Momoshirou aren't either."_

_Fuji had laughed it off, but Ryoma tugged his cap down, immediately trying to hide a light flush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn't thought of their relationship like that, and had ever even considered the possibility of another person of the same gender, but now that Fuji had brought it up, he couldn't stop thinking about it._

_He couldn't stop imagining things he hadn't known existed before._

_"Ryoma-kun? Are you okay?"_

_"Yep," he said shortly. "Just fine."_

_Fuji stared and Ryoma resolutely tried to pretend nothing had happened._

_"You know, my first relationship was with a boy."_

_Ryoma didn't say anything._

_"He was...beautiful," Fuji was saying. "Kind and smart and athletic. He played tennis, too."_

_Fuji laughed. "You know, I think he was part of the reason why I started playing tennis."_

_His words faded away and Fuji stopped. Ryoma let him stop though he wanted him to keep talking, to talk forever, to listen to Fuji's quiet laughter and his sad monologues._

_After the talk with Fuji and after Fuji mentioned it, Ryoma couldn't get it out of his head. He couldn't stop thinking about how other people perceived his relationship with Momoshirou and he wondered if others thought he was like that. He wondered if Momoshirou was like that._

_And then he thought of his father and wondered how he would react to him being like that. And he wondered what Ryoga would say and he became afraid._

_And then he wasn't. Because it didn't matter. It was too complicated to think about and whenever Ryoma thought things were too complicated, he turned to tennis._

 

*

 

Momoshirou looked much bigger and taller than Ryoma had remembered, but he fought to tell himself that this Momoshirou had lived a different life. That this Momoshirou had probably lived and worked and toiled and worked hard labor to get this big and tall. And that the last time Ryoma had seen his Momoshirou was in high school.

"Kaoru!" Momoshirou greeted, smiling happily. He gave the other man a clap on his back and they embraced.

"Takeshi, I have some friends here who are seeking Tokyo and may need some company," Kaidou was saying.

"No problem!" Momoshirou said.

Rounds of introduction followed quickly after his pronouncement before Kaidou realized that he had to head back towards the bar to help some customers. He nodded at his friend and bid the others a swift journey.

"Any particular reason why you're heading to Tokyo?" Momoshirou said. He slid into the seat next to Ryoma, who immediately scooted away from him.

"We're to see a noro," Kikumaru replied. Then he nodded towards Ryoma, staying silent.

Ryoma belatedly realized that it was his way of letting him say what he wanted, of letting him know that Kikumaru and Oishi would be joining his journey still, and that they trusted him.

He smiled.

"It's a rather long story," Ryoma said. "We could tell you while we're traveling."

"No problem!" Momoshirou grinned. "Let's focus on breakfast now and make our plans afterwards!"


	10. welcome to tokyo

**welcome to tokyo**

 

The group had spent their morning eating and planning out their journey. As Shirakawa was a lot closer to Tokyo than Sendai was, their journey would only be about a week long. With that in mind, Oishi and Kikumaru had ran to grab some more supplies while Ryoma and Momoshirou stayed behind to pack.

While packing, Ryoma ended up telling Momoshirou the entire story. In between tossing out unnecessary pieces of paper and random bits of junk, Ryoma allowed himself to open up a little more - regaling his epic tale about falling out of his world and into this one.

Momoshirou had an awestruck expression all over his face the entire time, and then afterwards, had prodded him with questions. With all of those questions he had started asking, the duo were still packing and cleaning up when Oishi and Kikumaru had returned.

"What? You two aren't done yet?" Kikumaru said when he came into the room they were staying to pack. He crossed his arms and shook his head disapprovingly, reminiscent of Ryoma's mother.

"Can't help it," Momoshirou shrugged. "This kid distracted me."

Ryoma tossed one of the dirty linen tops at him, hitting him square in the face.

"Cut it out," Oishi said from behind Kikumaru, though out of view. His voice sounded small and a little weary, as though Kikumaru had drained the life out of him through the supply run.

And in that moment, Ryoma felt at home somewhat. The relationships were reminiscent of his home life and it was all too easy to pretend that everything was okay.

 

*

 

For most of the journey, Momoshirou became the driving force. He happily chattered away during the day, during the evening, and sometimes, even through the night. He talked about anything and everything - from his family to his work and to his goals and dreams.

Ryoma learned more about Momoshirou from their one-week trip together than he had with his version of Momoshirou. And he wasn't sure if it was because of how different the two of them were or if it was because of the intimacy and proximity of their travels.

Momoshirou, as it turned out, had been traveling to and from Tokyo for some time. Though he was originally from Shirakawa, he moved out to Tokyo to find work.

"My work ended up being a blacksmith, which allowed me to travel to deliver raw materials and stuff," he had grinned.

And he seemed pleased and slightly jittery that he would get the opportunity to show off Tokyo to them.

"I love Tokyo," he said, "but the people who come here only come for business or to look for work. Nothing else. So it's nice when we get visitors who are able to spend some time here."

And Tokyo was beautiful and different at the same time. Upon arrival, Ryoma immediately knew that Tokyo had already progressed much further in terms of technological advances and architecture.

In fact, the architecture was much different in Tokyo than in Shirakawa - which Ryoma knew Momoshirou must have known.

More people than Ryoma knew Oishi and Kikumaru had ever seen bustled throughout the city. They carried with them large parcels, oddly decorated bags, oddly shaped bags, and others traveled in fancy-looking metal contraptions which Ryoma recognized as the earliest cars.

Of course, it probably wasn't. This world was some odd alternate universe where magic existed, so that must have sped along the advancements.

"Look anything like your Tokyo?" Momoshirou asked.

Oishi and Kikumaru tilted their hands in his direction, curious as to what Ryoma would say.

Ryoma surveyed the people, the buildings, and the city. The people looked the same and not - they were busy, dashing off to their jobs, work, or whatever. They carried themselves in a similar manner as to how Ryoma had seen Tokyo people but at the same time, they were different.

They walked slower, barely indistinguishable from what Ryoma remembered. Their hands carried no briefcase, but woolen drawstring bags. They lacked the bluetooths and cell phones clutched tightly in their hands, pressed against their cheeks. Instead, the air swirled with magic.

The buildings were different. Gone were the towering skyscrapers. In its place were old temples, ancient in Ryoma's eyes. There were several nicer-looking shops and buildings that looked out of place next to the temples because of how new it looked.

"No," Ryoma said, "but it does remind me of home."

It was barely into the morning, so they decided to find the noro's home right away. Momoshirou seemed to know everyone there as they walked through the city because they greeted him, cheerfully, welcoming him back to the city and asking him to stop by for some tea.

But they pushed on.

Momoshirou ended up leading them to a small home at the edge of the city. It was overrun with wildflowers and was boxed off in a fence, but it was quaint. When they arrived, there was a woman outside, tending to the garden.

"We're here to see the noro," Momoshirou announced.

The woman turned, placed her hands on her hips, cocked her head. She stared at them with a frown plastered on her face, as if sizing the whole group.

Ryoma stared at her, wondering why she struck as familiar with him.

Finally, she turned and beckoned them to follow her inside. The wooden doors swung open and they followed her past the entrance, past the darkened hallway.

Ryoma and the other men followed her. He could hear Kikumaru nudging Oishi to look at the walls, where there were portraits decorating the otherwise slightly creepy exterior. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could even see Momoshirou gaping at the images, muttering every now and then under his breath about something.

But Ryoma was much too focused on this girl in front of him. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a single neat ponytail at the nape of her neck, looking out of place to him for some reason.

"Tomoka-chan?" a voice from a lit room called.

And Ryoma could see that the women leading them was Tomoka. She looked older, but of course she was older, but she also looked happier. There were more worry lines and signs of aging, but her eyes seemed to glimmer with life. When she had greeted them, her eyes had seemed to spark in recognition for one moment and then another type of fire had replaced it.

The woman he heard then must be -

Tomoka called back. "I have some visitors for you, Sakuno-chan."

"Oh!" Sakuno sounded surprised, but she didn't immediately appear. "Go ahead into the main room; I'll be there."

Sakuno. Images of the shy middle school student immediately popped into his head. Even after so many years, he could not get seem to get over the fact that Sakuno had grown past her crush over him and then evolved and practiced her craft. She had made grounds in her tennis and though they hadn't spoken much, he still heard her name from his peers. Sakuno had been breaking ground in the women's tennis field.

And the last time they had spoken was… he paused.

Tomoka led them into what looked like the living room. Sun filtered through the stained glass windows; charms and various oddities hung over it, rustling underneath the opened windows. It was a tiny room, but seemed much larger and much more spacious for some reason.

Ryoma noticed that the tables and chairs were much lower than normal, that the tabletops seemed to rest only a foot and a half from the ground.

The group nervously sat down; Momoshirou immediately surveyed the room, eyes swimming from side to side as though scanning for an exit while Kikumaru and Oishi were exchanging whispers. Presumably about their absent host and noro.

But Ryoma was busy watching Tomoka. Tomoka had immediately begun rearranging the chairs once more. Instead of pulling up two chairs, she pulled up one and then sat in it.

"Hello everyone," a wispy voice called from the doorway.

Momoshirou stood up and started over but a glare from Tomoka caused him to falter and slide back into his seat.

But Ryoma could understand why. Because Sakuno slowly wheeled herself into the room, a tray of refreshments perched on her thin knees.


	11. midnight conversations

**midnight conversations**

 

" _What's wrong?"_

_Ryoma lifted his cap to stare back into Sakuno's face. Upon seeing her face, he set his cap back and shrugged._

_He heard a huff and then a sigh, then some rustling. She had set her school bag down and sat down next to him - despite the cold, hard ground._

" _Why are you here?" Ryoma asked._

" _I'm usually here," Sakuno replied. "You're the one with the changed schedule."_

_She had a point, Ryoma conceded. Not that he'd tell her that. So he didn't. And he didn't tell her why he was up on the rooftop instead of down at his usual spot either._

" _Ryoma-kun," Sakuno said. "Do you want to talk?"_

_There was a long moment, a long pause, and for a second, Ryoma considered talking to her. He considered getting up, staring at her face, and telling her everything that had been plaguing him over the last few weeks - months. He thought about Fuji and his face and his lips and stopping. He thought about hiding his face in his arms as he told her this so she wouldn't be able to judge him. He thought and thought._

_But he didn't._

" _No," he said._

_And so he didn't. And she didn't either._

 

_*_

 

Sakuno set the tray down on the round table and its low height made sense. Then, one by one she passed out teacups for everyone and poured everyone tea.

"Tomoka-chan," she said. And Tomoka nodded.

She got up from her chair and picked up the tray, with its now empty tea kettle, and left.

Sakuno had settled back to fill the empty space, completing their circle.

"Why don't you all introduce yourselves to me," she said, gesturing. Tomoka had come back, but this time, she began opening the box that had been on Sakuno's tray, carefully dispensing cookies, dried fruits, nuts, seaweed, and other snacks.

The men all seemed to look at once to Ryoma.

Clearing his throat, Ryoma spoke. And one by one, the men introduced himself. The introductions only reminded Ryoma that these men were here to help him - they were there for Ryoma and even that thought made him feel uneasy.

Sakuno nodded once introductions were over.

"As you all know, I'm Sakuno and I'm a noro - one of the few in all of Nihon. Tomoka-chan here has been with me through hardship and through the happier times," she continued, gesturing over to Tomoka. Tomoka gave them a short nod.

Then she turned to Ryoma.

"Ryoma-san," she said.

And Ryoma jolted, having expected another honorific.

"You had stated that you were from another world. In that world, were you acquainted with these gentlemen as well?" Sakuno gestured to Kikumaru, Oishi, and Momoshirou.

Having omitted that from his story, he nodded dumbly.

"Yes, I didn't think it would be relevant -"

"Everything is," Sakuno said. Her tone sounded sad, but her lips were curved into a smile.

"Well then," Sakuno continued, "now that I know the background, I can get ready. Tomorrow, we'll do the ritual."

"Ritual?" Ryoma asked.

"Ritual? Wait - why?" Momoshirou yelped.

The men had erupted into conversations, sounding confused over such a foreign concept. But Sakuno immediately waved a hand, silencing them.

"The ritual is necessary in order to figure out the truth," she said. "I'll need to contact my spirit guides because they know more than anyone on this plane of existence." She looked at Ryoma, eyeing him unblinkingly.

"While the concept of alternate universes and different worlds isn't entirely implausible, it was still thought to be very much impossible," Sakuno continued. "My spirit guides may have some answers."

"What do I have to do?" Ryoma asked.

Sakuno wheeled herself so that she was facing directly at him. Her brown eyes, which had seemed to kind when Ryoma had known her in his world, were old. Like she had seen everything and beyond.

"Sleep well at night, be sure to rest. Take care of yourself. Make sure you eat properly but avoid unnatural substances such as magicked greens. Also to avoid are meats. The spirits of the dead do not respond well if you have consumed something that had a soul," she said.

Then, hesitating, she added, "And I'll need one thing from you."

"What is it?"

"I'll need something from you that you treasure or value. You don't have to pick now, but be sure to have ready for tomorrow morning otherwise I won't be able to proceed with the ritual." She looked reluctant to even say this, as though she knew that this was where he would turn her down. "The only problem is that if the spirit guides believes that what you give up is not enough, your life will be taken instead."

She bowed her head.

Ryoma stepped back as silence fell. Then, Kikumaru was yelling at her, Oishi holding him back. Momoshirou was saying something, but he wasn't listening.

"You don't need to decide right now to even go through this ritual. You don't even need to pick right now. But if and when you do, you have to be sure, you have to be absolutely sure," Sakuno said. "It's the cost of communicating with the dead."

"That's absurd!" Kikumaru shouted.

"We'll just find another noro!" Momoshirou was saying. "You can't risk his life in this damn thing!"

But Sakuno was not listening to either of them; her entire focus was on Ryoma.

"Alright," he said. "I'll give you my answer tomorrow morning."

And Sakuno nodded. "Good, I'll prepare the materials just in case."

 

*

 

Momoshirou loudly complained about Sakuno's unorthodox methods of finding answers to anyone who would listen - which meant that he was mostly complaining to himself because Kikumaru and Oishi kept casting each other glances, each one the weight of a great ship.

Ryoma focused on walking, following his steps back to somewhere familiar. As Kikumaru, Oishi, and Momoshirou hung back, Ryoma had taken the lead despite not knowing where they were headed.

A familiar colored sign caught his eye - it was the sign for an inn, proudly proclaiming it to be Tachibana's Cozy Inn. But it was the color and the shape of it that startled Ryoma. It was the exact color of a tennis ball and the round shape didn't help him from thinking otherwise.

He didn't say anything to the others; he wanted to be inside, be comforted by familiarity. Even the name, "Tachibana" was familiar though he couldn't place why.

"Welcome to Tachibana's Cozy Inn," the woman in the front said.

And then he knew. Tachibana An, sister to Kippei of Fudomine.

Before he could get a word in, she turned to survey the group and upon seeing Momoshirou, her eyes lit up.

"Momoshirou! I thought you said you weren't coming back to Tokyo for a while!" she greeted.

Momoshirou paused in his mutterings and looked sheepish, a hand brushing the back of his neck as he slouched into a smaller position.

"Yeah, I didn't think I would be," he said. "But these guys needed a guide!"

She looked the same and yet, she didn't. Her hair was still the same short bob, but Ryoma noticed that she had bangs this time. Rather than the hairclip she always wore, which Ryoma thought might have been a later invention, she kept her hair trimmed neatly in front.

Tachibana turned back to Ryoma, eyeing him from top to bottom.

"You all were just at Sakuno's, weren't you?"

"How did you?" Oishi said.

Tachibana shrugged. "Sakuno's visitors always look a little shell shocked afterwards," she explained. "And they always somehow wander here."

"Weird that," Kikumaru said, frowning.

"Sakuno always gets her business done right, though," Tachibana said, smiling. "So don't y'all worry."

 

 

*

 

Kikumaru and Oishi spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for supplies with Momoshirou as their guide. While Ryoma did want to explore the city more, he had been around the three of them for so long that he felt he needed some space.

"Have fun," he waved them off. Then, he randomly picked a direction and walked.

This Tokyo wasn't much different than the one he was familiar with and although his Tokyo was constantly changing with every new trend or fad, it didn't seem much different from this Tokyo. Even walking on the streets was like a flashback to the not-so-far past - there were several people walking by in traditional yukata, kimono, sure, but there were also more "outlandish" ones that were reminiscent of street fashion. Though denim obviously was not popular.

Even the shops were similar. Well, the organization of it. And the people.

Despite the ritual weighing heavily on his mind, it was almost too easy to focus on the meager details of the city folk in Tokyo and compare them to home. It was far too easy to forget about home and focus on the present as well.

Ryoma turned around the corner and nearly stopped breathing. It had been hours since they visited Sakuno, but Sakuno and Tomoka were out and about, presumably doing their grocery shopping.

It felt almost voyeuristic, Ryoma thought, because it seemed so intimate and close and something he shouldn't disturb. The way the two of them danced around each other was thoughtful, careful, gentle, and beautiful all at once.

He turned away just as Tomoka leaned down and kissed Sakuno.

_He turned away just as Tezuka leaned over and kissed Fuji._


	12. the sleeping prince

**Warning: animal sacrifice**

 

**the sleeping prince**

 

Momoshirou was loud in wakefulness and in sleep. Ryoma contemplated throwing his pillow at his friend before deciding that finding another place to sleep would be better.

He snuck out.

The wooden flooring of the inn creaked a little, groaning ever so slightly underneath his weight as he tiptoed out of the room and down into the restaurant/bar with a pillow tucked under his arm and a sheet draped over his head.

Moonlight spilled through the curtains, melting onto table tops and walls into a shining liquid.

Ryoma found a table near the window and sat down, covered in his blanket. He put the pillow on the table.

At first he wasn't sure what he was doing. He wasn't sure why he had thought it would be a good idea to find a place to sleep on a restaurant table - who knows how clean it actually is? - and he wasn't sure if it would even be comfortable. And then he worried that he was deliberately sabotaging himself by not having a good night's rest so he wouldn't be able to do the ritual.

Then he wouldn't be able to find his answers and he wouldn't be able to go home.

Did he want to go home?

He played with the rope and twine hanging around his wrist. It was much more worn now, frayed at the edges and nearly thin enough to break one day.

What was something he could give Sakuno?

He laid his head down, letting it be engulfed by the softness of his pillow though it was by no means soft.

He felt an itch in his arms. Tingling down. Wanting some sort of feeling. Pain, perhaps.

He pulled at his bracelet.

 

*

 

"Have you decided?"

Sakuno looked young again, pigtails and all. But then Ryoma blinked and the Sakuno he knew was replaced by the one that was. She stared back at him, sad eyes, sad smile.

"Yes," he said.

Though his answer had not astonished anyone, Kikumaru and Oishi had given him disapproving looks while Momoshirou had resorted to guilt-tripping him.

Ryoma dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet - the one that had been broken many weeks before back in Sendai. The wind bit into his hands as he offered her the bracelet.

Sakuno took it, lifting it up to survey its frayed edges. Then, she pulled out her necklace, a magatama, and began wrapping the bracelet around the hanging stone.

Tomoka arrived, carrying a large fish in her arms. It wobbled slightly, nearly falling out of her arms. She set it on top of the wooden board, next to a large knife, right in front of Sakuno. Next to the table, there was a bucket.

"Let's start then," Sakuno said. "I need you to stand right in front of me, face me."

Ryoma stood in front of her, separated only by the table. She smiled.

"Good." She nodded. And then she began reciting a prayer before picking up the knife and cutting off the fish's head. She ignored the blood spilling out and moved closer to the bucket, picking it up and placing the fish inside it, all the way reciting the prayer.

Before Ryoma could ask her what she was doing, Tomoka spoke.

"Since Sakuno will be traveling in the other realm, she's sacrificing the fish so it will be able to guide her," she said. "The prayer lets the ancestors and gods know that the fish will have a better place in its next incarnation."

Sakuno wiped the blood off her hands with a towel and then pulled the magatama into her hands, clasping them lovingly in her palms. The prayer grew louder and more melodic, sounding as though she had never taken a breath or a moment to pause.

As Tomoka moved closer to Sakuno, she sprinkled knotted grass around their ritual area, then rested her hands on Sakuno's shoulders.

"The knotted grass is to keep bad spirits away," she said.

"And what are you doing now?"

"I'm her anchor now," Tomoka explained. "Once Sakuno goes into trance, she might not be able to come out of it so it's my job to make sure she wakes."

Ryoma stared, eyes wide. She ran a risk of never waking? And she normally did this? He half wanted to stop but half wanted to keep going.

As if Tomoka read his mind, she said, "normally, clients become worried and want to stop. Don't think that. If you become unsure, Sakuno's connection to the other realm will not be as strong and the risk is higher."

"Why does she do this?" the words came out of Ryoma's mouth faster than he could stop them.

Sakuno's knees began shaking. The coins strung together on her dress clanged together, clicking and clapping, creating a metallic applause. Then, it grew louder. Both her legs began shaking and they shook and they shook. Her eyes stayed shut tight.

The prayer stopped and the words coming from Sakuno no longer became intelligible. They were muddled, sounding like a cacophony of gibberish and harsh vowels and sounds. Her voice grew deep and rose to high pitches, pitches Ryoma didn't think were possible for people to achieve.

Ryoma watched in fascination as Sakuno kept shaking. Her entire body shook violently, causing Tomoka to shake with her. It was as if Sakuno had been possessed, and maybe she was.

And then all at once, it eased. Sakuno's eyes opened and the words stopped. Her hands fell into her lap, the magatama hitting her collarbone with a light thump.

With one hand, Tomoka tore Ryoma's bracelet off Sakuno's magatama and tossed it in the bucket along with the fish. Then, she raised one hand and the contents of the bucket burst into flames.

It was over.

 

*

 

Tomoka helped Sakuno lay down on one of the couches back in the resting room.

Sakuno closed her eyes and leaned back against the cushions, letting out soft sighs.

The others gathered around her, taking their previous seats, eyeing her prone form as though she would suddenly jerk into motion. As though she could suddenly move her legs.

"Ryoma-san," she said, finally breaking the silence. "Have you ever heard of the story about the sleeping prince?"

Ryoma startled. His eyes automatically sought Oishi's, immediately remembering the look in the other man's eyes as he told the story.

"I-yes," he said. "What about it?"

Sakuno pushed herself up, letting one of the cushions kiss the floor.

"Ryoma-san," she said. "Not a single word of the true story of the sleeping prince was ever uttered."

The others startled, exchanging concerned looks among the three of them. Momoshirou twittered nervously and even Tomoka's hand flew from her lap to her mouth.

"Sakuno?" Tomoka whispered.

She nodded, as though she and Tomoka had had an entire conversation without any of the three men noticing. Whispered underneath their very eyes.

"You may have heard that the prince had been bewitched by a rival kingdom to falling asleep, thus leaving his kingdom defenseless," Sakuno said. "As you can see, however, his kingdom remains standing, still proud as ever.

"You may have heard that the prince had been betrayed by his own brother and left for dead. However, his brother remains standing beside the prince's sleeping body.

"You may have also heard that the prince's magic had been Snatched away, that he went to sleep to recover.

"You may have also heard that, tired of the world and of ruling, the prince put himself to sleep and to get away."

Sakuno's words lingered in each of their ears, echoing in its absoluteness. They stood still, silent.

"None of these things are true," she continued, and then turned to Ryoma. Her hand flew up to touch the magatama still around her neck. Then, she reached behind her neck and it slid into her hands, the ends traveling around each other.

"Take this," she said, handing the magatama. "You need to get to Sapparo and speak to the prince - he will have your answers."

At once, voices emerged loudly and disappointed and angry. The thuds following the voices created a hollow feeling in Ryoma's heart, emptying the space for nothing but what he had hoped and lost.

"The prince is asleep-"

"Do you know how long -"

"-must be insane!"

"-the prince is asleep-"

"-and has been for years-"

"How is this possible?"

Ryoma's voice was very quiet when he spoke; quiet enough that when he spoke, he only has half a second to marvel at the fact that Sakuno could even hear hear.

"Do you know a way to wake him?"

Sakuno smiled, but shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said.


	13. running away & away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter is short so I'm posting this early. There will another one posted on Sunday.

**running away & away**

 

_"Are you and… Tezuka-senpai…?"_

_Before Ryoma could even finish his sentence, Fuji turned to him and nodded. His smiling eyes seemed permanently engulfed in happiness._

_"About a week now!" he said, voice tinged with too much cheerfulness in Ryoma's opinion._

_Ryoma turned away. He tried to calm himself, tried to think of something else, of tennis, of anything but the hurt that was building up inside, of the hate that was slowly bleeding out._

_"Ryoma-kun? You're not…"_

_He didn't bother to let Fuji finish the sentence._

_He ran._

Ryoma woke suddenly. The darkness stared back at him and it took him moments to adjust to the lack of lighting, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and the lethargy out of his body, half wondering why he was awake.

"Good," a voice said, "you're up."

He looked over at the doorway, ignoring Momoshirou's snores as he eyed Sakuno. She sat in her wheelchair, looking pale and tired lit only by the moonlight.

Ryoma glanced over at Momoshirou. The other man merely shifted in his sleep, a thin blanket falling off the bed and greeting the ground with a soft hug, and then snored even more loudly.

"What is it?" he asked.

Sakuno shook her head and looked pointedly at Momoshirou. Then, she waved a single hand.

Whatever it was, it was only meant for his ears, Ryoma realized. He followed her, careful to make sure that his footsteps echoed her wheels softly rolling across the wooden panels.

Sakuno took him outside, into the coolness of the night. As they reached the door, the faint snoring of Momoshirou slowly ebbed away into nothingness. Despite the lateness in the hour, the stars twinkling up high seemed to brighten as much as the moon, making it easy for Ryoma's eyes to adjust.

As they made their way further and further away from the cottage and closer to the garden, Ryoma found himself glancing over at Sakuno. Finally, they stopped close the edge of the woods near Sakuno's yard. The grass tickled Ryoma's bare ankles.

"What is it?" he asked.

Sakuno smiled. She looked pale in the moonlight.

"There was something else I wanted to speak to you about," she said. "Privately, though I'm sure you know by now."

Ryoma nodded.

"Didn't you wonder how I knew about the prince?" she asked.

Ryoma hadn't thought too much about it, too overwhelmed with the thought of Fuji senpai being the prince and being the sleeping prince and having to wake him up from his slumber.

"No, Sakuno-san," he said.

She paused, then stared back at him. There was something in his eyes that seemed sad, melancholy almost.

"Spirits, those who have passed from the realm of the living to the other side," she said, "they have a way with information. They are able to see things we living folks can't and they are able to communicate it with us noro."

"Of course, spirits aren't all-knowing," she added. "They know things because they follow, they listen, they watch. They are here even when we don't know it."

"So a spirit told you," Ryoma said. "Isn't this common knowledge then?"

Sakuno nodded.

"Right, I didn't have to explain it because everyone knew about this."

Ryoma frowned.

"Then it wouldn't have mattered if you told me this in front of everyone else."

"No, it wouldn't," she agreed. "But that's not why I wanted to speak to you."

_"Don't talk about it!" Nanjirou yelled._

_"And why not?" Rinko called back._

_A crash, a broken vase._

_"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Nanjirou!"_

_A younger Ryoma, barely into his preteen years, stayed hidden behind the wall. He wanted to shout out, to tell them to stop, but something had him frozen, still._

_Silent. Stoic._

_Nanjirou spun around, eyeing the broken vase with an apathetic stare._

_"He was my brother," he said quietly, voice soft enough that Ryoma had to crane his neck to hear properly, "and my parents disowned him."_

_"He still is your brother -"_

_"No! Not anymore! Not after he ran away with that **fag**!" _

_"Stop it!"_

_Ryoma snuck away, quietly filing this conversation for later._

"Your mother," Sakuno was saying. "I spoke with your mother."

_He didn't know what to do._

"My mother?" Sakuno nodded, but her eyes seemed to bare into Ryoma's soul. As if she was trying to read him from the inside out, trying to dissect him, trying to understand him.

"She's here?"

But how? Ryoma didn't even belong in this world, so how could his mother be here?

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head.

"How can she be here? You know where I'm from, so how can she be here?"

"Spirits exist because they have unfinished business," Sakuno said, "perhaps she is here because she has unfinished business with you."

Ryoma stayed silent, finally tore his eyes away from Sakuno. He looked up, looked down at his feet, looked anywhere but Sakuno. His vision grew blurry and then not and then even more so. Tears dripped.

Finally, he spoke, trying to even out his breathing.

"I miss her," he said, voice wet with emotion.

He stayed like that, head bowed, eyes wet, while Sakuno wheeled closer. She took his hand, gave it a squeeze of comfort.

"She's always with you."

_And he ran and he ran._


	14. cutthroat grief

**Warning: graphic description of violence**

 

**cutthroat grief**

 

Sakuno handed Ryoma an ice pack the moment they got inside. The crickets were still calling out to each other outside, but the birds were beginning to chirp their morning songs.

"Thanks," he said. He pressed it against his eyes.

"My fault for making you cry," she joked.

He let out a small smile.

With the ice pack pressed tightly against his eyes, he couldn't see much. Sakuno wheeled from place to place, disappearing in and out of his line of sight as she prepared breakfast and morning tea. She pressed a cup of tea, nice and hot, into his hands.

"Careful," she said, "it's hot."

He muttered a thanks but she had already zoomed out of his view, disappearing into the kitchen.

When she reappeared again, she had a platter of breakfast on her knees.

"Can you tell me more about what she said?" Ryoma asked, moments after they began eating.

The ice pack laid on the table, still ice cold due to Sakuno's stasis spell.

"She had been following Prince Fuji for some time," Sakuno said. "She didn't tell me why but perhaps she had been attached to him or knew him in your life, Ryoma-san, and since you weren't here yet, she went to him."

Ryoma frowned. "I… I think I saw her," he said, "once or twice back in my world."

Sakuno gave him a thoughtful look. "Perhaps she flitted in between worlds," she said. "Still attached to you yet somehow trying to cross over into this world. I wonder why this particular world." The last words were muttered mostly to herself.

Ryoma shrugged and took another bite of his eggs.

"Well, if I find out more, I'll be sure to send along the message," Sakuno said.

"Thank you."

"Will you be heading out to see the prince this morn then?" she continued.

She said it as though the prince were still awake and speaking, as though Ryoma could walk up to the castle and be let in. Perhaps he could, but it was more likely that he couldn't.

"I suppose," he said.

"Ah?" a new voice called. "Sakuno! You're up already?"

Tomoka came into view, still looking as though she had just crawled out of bed. Her clothes were rumpled and her hair, let loose hung just below her shoulders in messy waves.

"Tomoka-chan," Sakuno greeted with a smile as the other woman got closer.

Tomoka leaned down and pecked her cheek.

Ryoma watched the display of affection with slight curiosity, wondering briefly if they were even aware that he was still in the room. But as Tomoka drew away, the red flush across her cheeks was evidence enough that she was quite aware.

"'Morning Ryoma-san," Tomoka said, voice more gruff than when she had spoken with Sakuno.

 

 

*

 

Sakuno gave him two baskets full of food, but whispered that they were magicked and would last the entire group the week's journey even if they ate to their fill.

They set off. The morning had begun settling in, dewy mist hanging above the leaves, clinging onto the the greenery like they were just barely there. The mist made everything softer, even the colors seemed to be more pale and less bright, and the mud suckled at everyone's feet.

Both Kikumaru and Oishi were silent throughout the trip, exchanging glances with each other like they were passing along messages through a telepathic wavelength. Momoshirou, meanwhile, chattered about everything and nothing. He talked about the trees and the mist and how the mud got everywhere on his clothes and this was why he hated traveling up north and why he liked heading down to Shirakawa much better - oh and why couldn't Sakuno had magicked his clothes impervious to rain or mud?

It stayed that way for the first two days. On the evening of the second, the odd mist had begun to clear, and the sun set much earlier than the previous two days.

They huddled together in the glow of the fire Kikumaru had created, huddled together for warmth and for food.

Oishi passed them all bowls full of porridge, a small loaf of bread, and gave each of them some fish. Then, he tucked away the baskets.

Ryoma dug in, mindlessly tuning out Momoshirou's chatter.

Meal finished, he sighed and got up.

"Private business," Ryoma said shortly. He ignored Momoshirou's call to wait for him so they could go together and ignored Oishi's worried - but we'll be safer in pairs - and hurried away.

He saw less and less the further he walked from the fire. When he finally decided that it was far enough, he stopped and began pulling at his strings.

A crackle and he stopped, turning around.

Nothing.

He turned back - it was probably just a wild animal.

But then it was there again - he turned.

" _Okaa-san?"_

" _What is it, Ryoma?" His mother looked down at him, at little Ryoma who couldn't be more than six. He was tucked away in between her arms as she carefully balanced a book in front of them. They cuddled together, squeezed between mounds of pillows like little marshmallows between smores._

" _Why aren't there any princes who are together? And what about princesses?"_

_Ryoma stumbled over 'princesses' but didn't stop. He frowned._

_Rinko ran a hand through his hair._

" _Let's make a story up for the two princes, then shall we? We can write it out together and then you can draw the pictures!"_

_Ryoma grinned at the idea of writing his own story._

" _Okay Okaa-san!"_

A man pressed a knife against his throat.

Ryoma pressed himself against the tree, ignoring the way the bark seemed to eat at his skin.

"Ryoma!"

He jerked and the other man pressed it closer. Ryoma couldn't breathe - he couldn't think - that was Momoshirou! he thought.

The other man waved a finger at him, a teasing 'uh-no you don't' and 'don't you dare speak' demands all rolled into one movement. He smirked from beneath the handkerchief he wore, eyes glittering with malice.

Then, with one hand, he reached into his pocket. He kept the knife pressed against Ryoma's throat as he did so, and slowly pulled out -

Ryoma squinted. A glass jar.

With a pop, the cap flew off and Ryoma suddenly felt dizzy, felt like the air was being sucked away from him. He wanted to sleep, wanted to rest all of a sudden, wanted to lay down and curl onto himself - this man with the knife be damned.

_Ryoma, no!_

The man was saying something - words forming and Ryoma was not hearing any of it.

Something in him, something in Ryoma, was leaving - slowly and painfully, making him lethargic and heavy. His head lolled to the side and he slid down against the tree - its bark marking him as theirs with angry tears in his shirt, some deep enough to draw blood.

Ryoma vaguely realized that the knife was no longer pressing against his neck - instead, it was pressed against his heart - but he couldn't even lift his arms much less fight against it.

_Get up! Get out!_

The other man's voice was very soothing.

And then - it stopped.

Ryoma blinked awake, blinked away the lethargy, the dizziness, and the sleepiness. The man from earlier was laying on his side, the knife protruding from his side. Blood leaked out in a heavy stream.

Next to him, another man stood, his back towards Ryoma.

Before he even spun around, Ryoma knew who exactly it was. He felt the sudden drop in his stomach as the familiar face turned and smiled at him - the same smile that had haunted him for so long.

Yuta grinned.

 

 

*

 

Yuta took Ryoma's hand and they ran.

"C'mon," he was saying, "your friends are also being attacked."

The sudden need to rush towards them surged through him, accompanied by an overwhelming fear. He choked it all down, trying his best to keep a calm facade.

Ryoma wanted to ask Yuta where he came from, having not seen anyone for such stretches and stretches. He wanted to ask Yuta how he knew that they were being attacked, how the other man helped him. And how he can kill the man so callously.

But he said none of it, mind too busy focused on Kikumaru and Oishi and Momoshirou.

When the two of them reached the area where Ryoma and the others had settled, Momoshirou was the only one still standing, brandishing a very large sword that seemed to have come out of nowhere at the men surrounding him.

Both Kikumaru and Oishi laid deadly still at Momoshirou's feet, faces pale.

Before Ryoma could even say another word, Yuta ran forward, bringing up his sword. The men surrounding Momoshirou immediately spun around, the same jars in their hands.

And they began to chant.

"No!" Momoshirou cried. He ran forward and sliced one of the men's arms off; it flew and landed cleanly on the ground as the man screamed and fell forward.

Yuta grinned and then ran towards the men, yelling something about vengeance and sliced off someone's left ear. The man screamed and dropped two of the jars, filled with something shining bright and golden. They rolled to Ryoma's feet and he immediately pocketed them.

"Either you men -" Yuta snarled the last word, "get lost or you'll suffer another lost limb!"

The men exchanged glances and then quickly scrambled to their feet. It looked like they were about to retreat, but then one - the leader, probably - brought up a sword and ran.

Yuta and Momoshirou ran towards them, but Ryoma ducked down. He could play tennis, sure, that was fine, but fight for his life in a sword fight? He didn't even know how to hold a sword properly.

_C'mon, love, grab that sword._

Ryoma started, trying to find the source of the voice. But aside from the men shouting and trying to kill each other, there was no one there.

 _On your left, dear_.

Ryoma looked to his left and there was a sword. He picked it up - it felt light and familiar. The weight of it reminded him of his tennis racket, his favorite - the one his mother had gotten for him the day he beat his father.

He stood up.

_Block!_

And blocked an incoming sword. The man holding it looked surprised that Ryoma had stopped him but continued to pursue his attempt to kill or maim him, redirecting the hit to his legs.

But Ryoma was quick - having been a professional tennis player and all. He dodged and aimed a sweeping slice at the man, accurately targeting the man's thigh.

He screamed and fell. Ryoma ran towards the fight.

Yuta grinned when he saw that Ryoma had returned with a sword.

"Come to join the fun?" he teased as he dodged a swipe at his neck.

"'Wouldn't miss it," Ryoma said. They stood against each other, the three of them, backs pressed tightly against each other.

 _A pillar_ , Ryoma thought, allowing that brief moment of insanity to come across his mind.

He took aim.


	15. the second awakening

**the second awakening**

 

Ryoma made his way towards Kikumaru and Oishi, where they laid on the ground. They looked paler up close, he thought. And when he touched their hands, their skin felt clammy and ice cold.

"Fuckin' Snatchers," Yuta was muttering as he walked to them. He paused, as if waiting for something, and then when all was still quiet and Ryoma's head was frantically wondering how and why and what had happened - Yuta frowned at Ryoma.

"Aren't you going to open those jars?"

Ryoma frowned and pulled them out. They were swirling frantically now, as if trying to leave the confines of the jars, trying to go back home.

Like him.

He unscrewed one of them and immediately, the golden mist swirled into the air. A long trail of something glittering following it and went immediately to Kikumaru.

Kikumaru's mouth automatically opened as the mist flew into him. His body glowed a little and then, a healthy flush gradually made its way throughout his body. His chest moved.

Heart pounding, Ryoma unscrewed the other jar and watched as it did the same to Oishi.

"It's magic," Momoshirou said. "They were Magic Snatchers, trying to steal Kikumaru and Oishi's magic. Of course - they couldn't get me because I don't have any."

"Wait a minute -" Ryoma said. "But I don't have magic."

Yuta looked at him, an odd expression stuck on his face.

"You probably do," he said. "My magic tells me you do. Or my intuition," he added, shrugging.

"What?" Momoshirou asked, just as Kikumaru and Oishi began stirring.

"My magic is my intuition, and it's telling me that you have magic, kiddo."

Momoshirou gaped at Ryoma and then at Yuta, and then back at Ryoma as if he couldn't decide what was more astounding - the fact that Yuta had intuition or that Ryoma had magic.

"Y-You! Aren't you the New Prince of Sapporo?" Momoshirou gasped.

Yuta raised an eyebrow. "What of it?"

Momoshirou sputtered something about why the Prince was wandering around the woods by myself while Ryoma turned his attention to Kikumaru and Oishi, shoving the idea that he might have magic aside.

"How are you two feeling?" Ryoma asked.

Kikumaru rubbed his head and leaned against Oishi, eyes drooping with weariness and exhaustion. Oishi leaned back, pressing his weight against the other man.

"Tired," he muttered.

Ryoma squeezed their shoulders in turn.

"Let's move away from this place and then talk," he told the others.

" _Ryoma, you should eat."_

" _I'm not hungry." He moved away from his brother._

_Ryoga sighed and then disappeared from Ryoma's room, probably to coax Nanjirou into eating as well._

_But Ryoma's mind was a mess. Though unintentionally, he had already begun blaming Nanjirou for his mother's death, for loving the taste of alcohol over his own wife and prioritizing that over their safety. If not for the alcohol loosening his limbs, he would have been dead as well._

_And he blamed himself too. He was supposed to be in that car._

 

*

 

Though they followed Yuta, with Oishi and Kikumaru being drained after their encounter with the Snatchers, the group didn't make it far. They found a shadowy clearing with a small gathering of trees that would give them the advantage should anyone try to ambush them - all to thanks to Yuta's intuition.

Ryoma's mind was reeling though. Magic? Him? He immediately thought about his tennis playing abilities, wondering for a senile moment if his father was actually a wizard from this world and had crossed over to the place he'd always called home. Then he wondered if it was actually his mother, but quickly shook that idea aside.

But the sound of his mother's voice echoed in his mind. He remembered it telling him, no, helping him fight against the Snatchers. And though he had never wielded a sword in his life, he had helped fought off the Snatchers.

Maybe his magic was learning new skills.

Oishi and Kikumaru leaned against each other almost immediately upon resting. They slumped together like two magnets, unable to break apart.

"I almost forgot what this feels like," Kikumaru murmured.

"Your magic was Snatched before?" Ryoma asked.

Oishi shook his head.

"Sometimes, when you use too much, you feel just as drained," he answered.

Yuta nodded. "Of course, it's a lot harder when your magic doesn't have a physical manifestation."

Like Oishi, Ryoma thought. Kawamura, with his fire magic, would be more likely to get drained. And Kikumaru too. But Oishi and Kaidou wouldn't.

"Where were you all heading? "Yuta asked, suddenly.

Momoshirou tossed his sword down, the clanging of metal followed.

"Sapporo," he replied, glancing at Ryoma, as if asking for permission to explain.

Whether it was because the glance wasn't as sneaky as he thought or because Yuta's intuition allowed him to pick up on this, Yuta turned his attention to Ryoma.

"Your doing then?" he asked. The way he asked it made is sound as if it was Ryoma's fault - that the entire trip was Ryoma's fault and it was because of Ryoma that Kikumaru and Oishi nearly had their magic stolen.

Well, that was true, now wasn't it?

"Yes," Ryoma said. "I'm from another world." And he launched into a brief explanation about his life as a pro tennis player and about waking up in this strange magical land and finding Sakuno, the noro, who told them to go see the Prince.

Yuta looked at Ryoma in amazement.

"You're him," he said dumbly. "You're the one the Prophecy spoke of."


	16. discoveries

**discoveries**

 

 

" _Ryoma-kun."_

_Ryoma tucked himself further in, away from the voice, away from the outside world. He didn't want to listen, didn't want to see._

" _Go away."_

_Fuji sighed, exasperated. The grass crumbled underneath his feet as he got closer. Then, from the corner of Ryoma's eye, he could see Fuji carelessly flopping down to sit next to him._

_Like a petulant child, Ryoma spun away to face the tree._

" _Ryoma-kun," Fuji said. He sounded tired. "I'm sorry, but you can't keep doing this to yourself."_

" _Doing what exactly?" Ryoma bit out._

_Though he couldn't see the other boy, he could feel the air between them waving, indicating that Fuji was waving his arms around._

" _Shutting everyone out," Fuji replied. "It sounds cliche, but it's true. You're blocking everyone out even when it's been weeks - months!"_

_Ryoma bit his lips._

" _We gave you your space," Fuji said. He sounded quieter now. The sound of his breath seemed to permeate the air. "You need to come back to us now."_

" _I can't."_

_His mind was stuck on a loop, imagining the way the car had spun out of control. Spinning and spinning until it hit the metal railing. He imagined the way it broke through the metal like it was nothing. If metal couldn't stop it, how could soft, malleable, human flesh?_

_He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to hug her. He wanted her comfort, her arms wrapped around him reminding him of his childhood._

_Ryoma looked up, stared at Fuji, and without another thought, leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Fuji, pressing his forehead against the other boy's shoulder._

" _Echizen?"_

_Ryoma shook his head._

_He needed this. He wanted this. He needed this._

_Fuji's arms slowly came up, slowly began to accept the other boy. Though the wind chilled Ryoma, the warmth of Fuji's arms became comforting, became more._

 

 

*

 

Yuta was quiet the entire rest of the trip to Sapparo. Between giving Ryoma curious glances whenever he thought Ryoma wasn't looking and checking in on Kikumaru and Oishi, he otherwise kept his silence.

 _Wise_ , Ryoma thought, because he wasn't sure if he was up to speaking at the moment.

His mind was running miles on end. Prophecy? First, it was that he suddenly had magic, suddenly had the power to speak to voices that weren't there and to listen to them. And now…

" _Prophecy?"_   _Momoshirou echoed._

_Kikumaru looked up. He leaned heavily against Oishi._

" _Not… that prophecy, is it?" Kikumaru asked._

_Yuta frowned._

" _If you're talking about the one that states that the Mentioned One is prophesied to wake the Prince and…" Yuta looked away. "That's the prophecy."_

_A silence._

" _I'm supposed to wake the Prince?" Ryoma echoed. He remembered Sakuno's words, her solemn tone as she told Ryoma that he would find answers from the Prince._

" _With the Prince awakening, the kingdom will be able to flourish," Yuta explained._

_Oishi looked at Ryoma. "Of course you don't know what the climate is like," he said. "The Prince had brought peace within the four provinces of the kingdom but since he had gone asleep -"_

" _-the four provinces had been at war," Kikumaru finished._

" _That's why there's a proliferation of bandits and Snatchers," Momoshirou explained. "With the four provinces at war, there's more inner fighting."_

_Ryoma stayed silent._

Yuta led the group of them past a small clearing. As they stood on the hills, they could see, in the distance, the beginnings of a small city. A stone gate surrounded the outer edges and even further, Ryoma could see the tips of a tower.

Yuta smiled.

"Home sweet home."

Momoshirou slipped next to Ryoma and squeezed his shoulder.

 

 

_*_

 

_Ryoma leaned back and pressed his head against Fuji's shoulder. He let his mind wander; refocusing his thoughts to Fuji and his face and his smiling eyes whenever they drifted over to thoughts of his mother. The older boy shifted and then stilled._

" _You okay?" Fuji asked._

_Ryoma shrugged._

_Fuji hummed._

_The growing cold was slowly chilling Ryoma so he moved closer to the other boy. Then, feeling a strange impulsive urge, he looked up._

" _Fuji-senpai," he said._

" _Hm?"_

_Without warning, Ryoma moved, tried to kiss him, but missed Fuji's mouth and kissed the corner instead._

" _Ryoma!"_

_Fuji pushed him off._

_Ryoma stilled, tried to calm himself. His heart was tearing at itself, eating at itself._

_Fuji didn't seem to know what to say._

" _I'm with Tezuka," he tried._

_Ryoma looked away._

" _Okay," he simply said._

_In the end, he had pressed the resignation letter to Seigaku's Tennis Team, packed his bags, and followed Ryoga to America. Japan held too many memories._

 

*

 

A familiar face greeted the party as they arrived at the gates.

Tezuka stepped forward, dressed in protective armor. An elegant gold-rimmed sword stowed by his side. He bowed when Yuta stopped in front of him.

"Prince," he said.

Yuta nodded. "Tezuka."

Tezuka straightened and then glanced at the rest of the party.

"I didn't realize you had left without one of the palace guards," he said. "Would you like me to accompany you up to the palace?"

"Yeah, why don't you do that," Yuta answered.

Tezuka nodded to another guard and then led the group through the city.

As they passed, more and more faces appeared from windows and storefronts, trying to catch a glimpse of Prince Yuta it seemed.

"Why were you out, Prince?" Momoshirou asked.

Yuta turned back and grinned. "I'm the type to get bored easily," he said. "So I ran away."

Momoshirou let out a chuckle and Kikumaru hid a grin behind his hand, but Oishi rolled his eyes.

Ryoma tuned out the rest of the conversation, choosing instead to take in the surroundings. They were so close to Prince Fuji now, so close to home. He thought about Sakuno's words - the Prince had the answer. But the Prince was asleep and according to Yuta, he was supposed to wake Fuji.

How?

He wanted to ask something, wanted to scream, wanted to - he wanted to talk to his mother.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something flicker into view. A ghostly image of his mother waved at him.

He blinked.

It was gone.

He wondered if he was just hallucinating things.

Yuta allowed them to stay with him in the palace, stating that there was plenty of room and he was quite often lonely. That, and as the Mentioned One in the Prophecy, Ryoma should be able to stay in the palace.

And it seemed as though Yuta was excited to see his brother finally wake because after showing them their rooms, he took them up to Fuji's.

They stopped in front of the door.

Tezuka glanced at the party curiously.

"Prince?"

Yuta tried to suppress a grin and failed.

"Tezuka, the One from the Prophecy is here with us today."

Tezuka took a closer look at the group. His knuckles whitened.

Ryoma pushed himself to step forward before Tezuka could ask which one it was.

"It's me," he said.

Tezuka gave him an unimpressed look. Then, he turned back and opened the door.

Ryoma had to take a breath, remind himself to breathe. He had to stop himself from running away, from running towards Fuji - whichever - he couldn't really tell. He wanted to both see Fuij and to never see him again. He reminded himself that that wasn't his Fuji. Not the Fuji he had known.

He stepped inside the room.

The room was dimly lit. Blue silk curtains draped over the bed, creating an ethereal effect. The windows' curtains were half open, letting in some of the last bits of sun and keeping nature's worst bugs and birds away.

In the middle of the room was a large bed. The blankets and pillows obscured Ryoma's view of the sleeping man, but he could tell right away that this Fuji was older than the last one he saw.

Ryoma walked right up to the side of the bed.

The entire room seemed to hold its collective breath.

Fuji's hair was still the same honey brown color. It clung his forehead, to his ears, to the pillow beneath his head. His eyelashes seemed to float above the pale skin and with a jolt, Ryoma remembered that this Fuji probably had never even picked up a tennis racquet. This Fuji had probably always been pale, even with the additional years of sleep.

"Well?" Yuta demanded, breaking Ryoma away from his thoughts.

Ryoma gulped, stared down at Fuji.

He had no idea what to do.


	17. letting go

**letting go**

 

Nothing happened.

Tezuka ushered the party back to their rooms and even personally accompanied Yuta back to the Prince's room. Yuta had tried to keep the disappointment off his face, but Ryoma could easily see anguish and disappointment dripping off the boy as he left Fuji's room.

Ryoma was the last to go.

He wanted to leave but found he couldn't. His legs seemed heavy and it seemed much more difficult to leave now that he was alone.

He reached for Fuji's hand, gripped it tight, wanted the other man to wake.

Ryoma felt calm.

After several minutes, he could stand. Pins and needles pricked at his legs, tingling from his toes and upwards throughout his body. The sun was setting, so he made his way to the room assigned to him for the short duration, eager for a bath.

As he settled in for the night, he grew restless. The quiet and the stillness echoed throughout the hallways, emptying the castle even further of its occupants as he snuck out of his room. He let his feet take him anywhere but his room, let them roam, but after a few minutes of aimless wandering, he noticed that they were slowly leading him back to Fuji's room.

Tezuka stood outside Fuji's door, guarding the sleeping prince. He immediately saw Ryoma and frowned.

Ryoma moved closer.

"Hello Tezuka-san," he said.

Tezuka nodded.

"Prophesized One," he said, causing Ryoma to wince.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Just Echizen."

He wanted to hear it in Tezuka's voice again.

Tezuka frowned, but nodded. "Echizen, what are you doing out late this evening?"

"Couldn't sleep," Ryoma said, shrugging. He stood there, not knowing whether or not to ask Tezuka if he could see Fuji or if it would be better if he just left.

But before he could decide anything, Tezuka sighed.

"You want to see him," he said.

"I guess." Another shrug.

Tezuka stared down at Ryoma and Ryoma stared back. Something flickered in the older man's eyes and then he sighed again.

"The Prince has been asleep for a very long time," Tezuka finally said. "But before that, he and I were close friends. In fact, the Prince often ignored hierarchies and status."

Ryoma swallowed. "Why are you telling me this?" he said, after a moment.

"I want you to remember he still is human," Tezuka answered. He stood aside and waved Ryoma in.

Ryoma wasn't quite sure what to think; the Tezuka he had always known was just as cryptic if not moreso and just as much of a pain in the ass. But that Tezuka had been in a relationship with Fuji and the last time he had seen him, they were still together. This Tezuka and Fuji's relationship could be completely different.

It could be completely the same.

"Thank you," Ryoma murmured and stepped in.

A chill passed through him as the door slid shut. He shivered and walked up to Fuji, whose face looked paler underneath the moonlight.

Something - or someone - grabbed his wrist, thin fingers wrapped around his wrist. He bit his lip in surprise and spun around - finding nothing in his view but the shut door.

The feeling was gone already, he noticed as he turned his attention back to Fuji. He tried to calm his racing heart, tried to breathe. The air seemed colder in Fuji's room.

Fuji looked the same as he had when Ryoma came in earlier, but he supposed there shouldn't be much of a difference. Ryoma stared at the sleeping prince, thought about the differences between this prince and his own senpai.

Ryoma took Fuji's hand, slid his fingers between the sleeping prince's, and tightened his grasp. Fuji was cold, body temperature probably lowered to a cooler temperature to maintain the body or if it was a spell, spelled that way so Fuji wouldn't -

He paused, brought his other hand up and brushed Fuji's bangs aside.

"Fuji senpai," he said and winced. Though he had whispered, his voice sounded as though he had spoken through a loudspeaker in the still of the night. He lowered his voice, leaned in so Fuji could hear him - even if he wasn't listening.

"I'm sorry for not telling you," he said, after a moment's search. He wasn't sure what to say; he just knew he had to say something. "I didn't know how to say what I know now."

He leaned back, thumb trailing down Fuji's hand.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for helping me, for getting me to realize something in me."

Ryoma sighed. "I was also… afraid," he said. "Afraid to see you."  _Because I knew you were with Tezuka and I knew you wouldn't let him go_.

_Because I was worried I wouldn't let you go._

"I'm letting you go now," Ryoma said, voice breaking. His grasp on Fuji's hand lighten. He kept his fingers loosely entwined with Fuji's. "You're your own person."

He leaned back, pulled his hand away from Fuji, and sat staring at the sleeping prince. Fuji's face no longer caused his breaths to hitch, no longer caused his heart to race or skip a beat.

Ryoma could do this.

He stood and peered over the prince. He leaned in and whispered in the prince's ear: "one last kiss wouldn't hurt, right?"

Ryoma pressed a light kiss on Fuji's temple.

Then, he stood back, and began his journey back to his room.

 

*

 

 

_He hit the water, breaking its surface with a deafening splash. Its coolness hugged him, pulled him in, enticed him into its depths._

_Salt stung his eyes when he tried to open them. But the brief glimpse into the darkness told him that there was someone else - something else out there in the waters with him._

_A ghostly hand held onto his wrist, soft and comforting - familiar. He pulled away automatically, body already searching for air. Though he was already floating, the heavy weight of his tennis shoes was tugging him towards the ocean's floor._

_And then there was something else entirely - the familiar presence of something Ryoma couldn't identify. The familiar grasp on his wrist, fingers enclosing over them that reminded him of home._

_He wanted to see; he wanted to open his eyes and check if he was right._

_With great effort, he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sting of the salt water._

_In front of him was the ghostly image of his mother, smiling sadly at him. Behind her, a whirlpool swirled dangerously close._

_He started, then moved towards her, wanting to touch her, to see if she was real. But the whirlpool was getting closer, slowly pulling his mother in, feet first. But where were her feet?_

_He reached out and was pulled into the whirlpool's embrace._


	18. mother dear

**mother dear**

 

Ryoma didn't get any more than two hours of sleep before something woke him up.

The blankets at his feet shifted, as though something had pressed down on the comforter. He started and got up, leaned against the back of the wall, blinking through the darkness. He let his eyes adjust and then -

there was a ghostly image hovering at the foot of his bed.

He tossed his blanket into the direction of the apparition, stifling a cry of surprise, and ducked underneath the rest of his comforter.

" _Ryoma,"_  the ghost said.

Ryoma immediately recognized the voice. He shifted and pulled his head out from underneath.

"Okaa-san?"

He turned to look at the apparition, peered more closely at the image.

His mother smiled, looking pale and translucent. Ryoma couldn't see her feet, but he supposed it didn't matter - they were probably nonexistent.

"What are you - how?"

" _It's your magic,_ " she said. " _It allows you to see me when others can't."_

Ryoma paused.

"Then - back when those Snatchers were coming for us - that was you?"

She nodded, then moved from the foot of his bed to his side, so that she was closer. She was close enough now that Ryoma could see her full expression, could see the wrinkles lining her face, could see the wariness hanging off her shoulders like heavy weights dragging her down under.

"I - I don't understand," he said. "Why are you here?"

It was his mother - his actual mother. Not a look-a-like who might have died in this world and appeared before him. This was the ghost of the one who gave birth to him, who cared for him, who raised him.

Her smiled strained.

" _Ghosts have unfinished business,"_ she said. " _And I wanted to see you one last time_.  _To talk to you one last time._ "

He let her words wash over him.

"But then - why didn't you appear before? Right after the -"

She bowed her head. " _I accidentally attached myself to the wrong person_ ," she explained.

Ryoma frowned. "What do you mean? And how are you here?"

" _I've been here, Ryoma,"_  she said. " _I attached myself to Fuji-kun - on accident."_  She gave a sardonic laugh, half self-pitying and half amusement. " _It's my fault he's asleep. I could only just barely reach you on that bridge."_

Ryoma's mind scrambled to process her words.

"Your fault?" he said.

" _When I anchored myself to Fuji-kun, since I'm not from this world -"_ she looked sheepish. " _The noro told me that there was a high energy cost and in that exchange that would give me visibility to you - Fuji-kun fell into a coma."_

Ryoma fell silent.

"He'll wake once we go back home?"

Rinko said nothing.

Ryoma wanted her to say something, wanted to hear her speak for as long as possible, wanted to savor this moment. He wanted his dad and Ryoga to be here also, wanted them to talk, wanted his dad especially to see her, to get over and to move on.

"You were really there then," he said. The bridge appeared in his mind, long and lonely in the night. Dim lights hovered over him, barely paving the path across the bridge as he made his descent towards 'home.' And then the wind came along with the ghostly image of his mother.

He had thought he was hallucinating.

But then again, he was here, wasn't he?

"I missed you," he said, suddenly.

Silence. Then Rinko moved closer. Her pale hand came up, graced his cheek. He wanted to feel it, feel the warmth of his mother's hand, feel her comfort passing along to him as she let his fears fall away in pieces.

Her hand went through him and a chill passed through him instead.

" _I missed you too,"_  she said. " _And of course your Otou-san and Ryoga_." She smiled, again, and Ryoma briefly wondered how she could.

She seemed to float closer and then settled onto the blankets gathered around Ryoma's legs. He curled around them, let her move closer to him.

He wanted her to hug him again.

" _Your magic works now; you can see me now,"_ she said. " _But once you're back, I'll be gone."_

"Where will you go?"

He hated that he sounded so small, so young.

" _I'll be…"_  she paused. " _I'll be moving on."_  And she turned to look at him, straight on, eye to eye. " _As you should be."_

His heart clenched. He wanted to move on, had been trying to for the past couple years. But the guilt ate at him; he felt like he was drowning in it, suffocating on the lies he told himself, to keep himself down and away from people.

" _Ryoma, it's not your fault_ ," she said. She leaned in close.

Unbidden, tears fell. He curled upon himself, unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to -

" _It's alright, I'm alright, I'll move on_ ," she continued. " _Just remember that, Ryoma? It's okay - it's not your fault."_

It was like she knew what he was thinking.

For a moment, it seemed like she was physically there. Her hands came up, cupped his cheeks like she would when he was younger, and she pressed her lips on his temple - warm and comforting.

" _If you only take one thing away from this meeting,"_  she said, " _know that it was not your fault."_

When Ryoma woke next, the sun shined through the gaps between the curtains, his blankets stayed crumpled together in a corner where he imagined his mother had been, and the palace was alive with the news of Prince Fuji's awakening.

He wondered if he had dreamt the exchange with his mother and then wondered at the peacefulness that had settled in him.


	19. the prince

**the prince**

 

The palace became alive. The servants rushed from place to place, preparing the rooms ready for the now awake prince. Down in the kitchens, the kitchen staff began the preparations for an extravagant celebration feast. Yuta even held off his Prince duties and had his manservant hole himself up in his room to write letters to neighboring kingdoms and villages informing them of Fuji's awakening.

With the news, Ryoma, Kikumaru, Oishi, and Momoshirou become forgotten in the flurry of noise.

Yuta barricaded Fuji's room, hiding himself away from onlookers to speak to his brother - about anything and everything, Ryoma supposed.

It was only past mid afternoon when Yuta seemed to remember that he had guests in the palace and sent Tezuka after them.

Having nothing to do, Ryoma, Kikumaru, Oishi, and Momoshirou had taken to wandering throughout the palace and offering a hand whenever the servants seemed to need it. Because they had split up based on duties and on their own whims, it was nearly evening before Tezuka was able to gather them.

"The Great Feast will be held tomorrow night," Tezuka said. "Yuta managed to connect with several of our neighboring kingdoms, many prominent royals from nearby villages, and some community members. They'll be here quite soon, I think."

They walked side by side, greeting each servant they passed by. Ryoma noticed that each servant had a glow to them that could only be described as the happiness of Prince Fuji's awakening.

One servant had even mentioned, while Ryoma helped with cleaning the stables, that now the treaty would be signed and there would be peace.

But Ryoma remembered Sakuno's promise:

Wake the Prince and he'll be able to go home.

The Prince was awake now. But did he wake Fuji up? How on earth had Fuji woken up? Ryoma could only remember vague details of his talk with the sleeping prince and the prince had been deep asleep.

If there was no Prince to wake, did that mean he couldn't go home?

"Are you going to see the Prince, Ryoma-kun?" Kikumaru asked, over their bowl of soup.

Yuta had set them up in a small dining room - bigger than what Kikumaru and Oishi had owned and probably would ever own, but still small in comparison to the Hall where the Great Feast would be held - and then had promptly disappeared into Fuji's room to presumably catch his brother up on current events.

"I think I'll wait until the Great Feast," Ryoma said.

Momoshirou eyed him curiously, but said nothing.

"Did you know Prince Fuji?" Oishi asked. "You said yourself that we resemble people in your life - does Prince Fuji resemble anyone?"

Ryoma paused, wondered what to say. Half of him wanted to tell them: tell them everything. Tell them. But the other half wanted to close up. To shut them out.

Again.

He shook away his thoughts. He couldn't do that again, wouldn't do that again. Not to the same people - or rather, to different people with the same faces.

"I did know him," Ryoma said. "He was my first."

He clamped, didn't want to say more.

A silence. Momoshirou's spoon hovered over his bowl, soup dripping off the silver metal in steady increments.

"You want to talk about it?" Kikumaru asked.

Ryoma shook his head.

"It's fine," he said. "It's fine."

And strangely enough, it was.

 

*

 

_Someone squeezed his hand._

_He twitched, wanting more of that comfort, more of that familiarity._

_But he couldn't move. Couldn't raise his arms, couldn't open his eyes, couldn't lift his legs. Even a finger was too much._

_His entire hurt, was sore. He felt heavy, like something was pressing against his torso, weighing him down._

_He wanted to breathe._

 

_*_

 

Guests began arriving to the palace throughout the morning hours the next day. Again, the palace rumbled with noise and cheers and chants. Some villagers had heard about the Prince's awakening and had trudged up to the castle to send well wishes. Others (unreasonably) screamed their rage at the Prince's laziness.

Prince Fuji, Yuta had said between greeting Guest D and entertaining Guest H, was much too unwell to be walking around too much.

"However, he will be in attendance during the Feast," Yuta said with a smile.

"You need clothes," Tezuka said.

Momoshirou rolled his eyes, brandishing heavy arms in front of himself.

"What are we wearing, Tezuka-san?"

Tezuka pursed his lips, looked at Oishi for help.

"You know what I mean."

"Nice clothes, Momoshirou-san," Oishi said. "Fancy, greeting-the-prince clothes."

Kikumaru laughed just as Momoshirou grumbled under his breath.

Tezuka knew exactly which tailor would be of most help. He led the group of them through the back door, avoiding angry villagers and ecstatic ones alike, and even through the crowds of people mingling in the marketplace.

They entered a small and cozy shop with no sign outside the door.

Ryoma knew that if they had been sent to find a tailor, this would not be the place they would have gone in.

"Shiba-san," Tezuka called.

A vaguely familiar woman appeared from behind a curtain.

"Ah, Tezuka-san," she said, then noticed Ryoma and the others. "I see you're with several others - guests of the palace?"

Tezuka gave her a short nod.

"Each of them need a new set of clothing for the Feast tonight," he explained.

Mischievousness glinted in her eyes. She stepped closer to the group of them, giving Momoshirou a careful survey.

"Oh?" she said. Then, to Momoshirou, "you'll be a tough one, but I'm the best in this town."

Tezuka sighed.

"Shiba-san, if you will."

She grinned and nodded. Then, she stepped back, pulling out a measuring tape.

"Let's start with you," she said, pulling Momoshirou's wrist towards another room.

They, with the exception of Tezuka, watched with astonishment as Shiba easily pulled the much larger man, disappearing into another room.

"She's the best?" Kikumaru asked.

Tezuka sighed again.

"Unfortunately."

 

*

 

Having never gotten tailored clothes, Momoshirou, Kikumaru, and Oishi all came out looking flustered, but pleased to get the measurements done.

"Your turn, Ryoma-kun!" Kikumaru had said, coming out.

Tezuka nodded and gestured towards the next door and Ryoma, after a moment's hesitation, followed through.

Shiba was muttering under her breath about Kikumaru's measurements and then wondering if she should make a couple set for Kikumaru and Oishi. When Ryoma cleared his throat, she jumped a little and turned around to greet him.

"Ah, here you are," she said. "I heard from Prince Yuta that you are the Mentioned One."

Ryoma started.

"Er - yeah," he said. "But I didn't do anything."

She gave him a smile.

"Of course, dear," she said. Then, she gestured towards the round platform in front of her.

"Please stand on that."

He did, watching as she grabbed a brush and some ink along with some paper. Then, her hands seemed to sparkle with something like magic and the measuring tape began to float. It stretched out in front of her, following her as she turned to face him, a brush poised over the paper.

She waved her hands and the measuring tape came up to his legs, spreading over the length of it.

Shiba noted something on her paper.

"Raise your arms, please!"

He did and the measuring tape came up to his arms.

The entire session was over very quickly. Shiba kept to her notes, muttering under her breath about what colors would look good on him and what cuts, which Ryoma ignored.

"I'll send them up to the castle," Shiba said, afterwards. "It'll arrive about an hour before the Feast."

Tezuka nodded.

"Thank you, Shiba-san."

 

*

 

 

As the hours dwindled into evening, the sun began casting a cheerful warmth overhead. Guests gathered around the Hall, eyeing the decorations with appreciation and mingling with others.

Ryoma tugged at his clothes. They felt stiff with newness, but Kikumaru had tried to soften it by heating it with his warmth magic. It didn't work so much, nearly setting one of his sleeves on fire.

Though the Hall was crowded, Ryoma could see Fuji sitting at the very front, next to Yuta.

The newly awaken prince looked pale, but the glow from the candles helped bring some rosiness to his cheeks. From what Ryoma could see, Fuji was smiling and laughing and in all appearances - in good health.

"Ryoma-san," a familiar soft voice called.

He spun around and sputtered, wanting to call her Ryuuzaki and Sakuno-san at the same time.

She smiled, as though she knew.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

Ryoma composed himself.

"I'm fine," he said. "And you?" He took a moment to survey the crowd. "Are you here with Tomoka-san?"

Sakuno nodded. "Tomoka-chan is getting us drinks," she said. "Where are Kikumaru-san, Oishi-san, and Momoshirou-san?"

Ryoma shrugged.

"I lost them in the crowd," he admitted.

She laughed and he followed. For some reason, it felt easier to talk to her after Fuji's awakening. Or maybe it was just Sakuno here in this world that he felt it was easier. Maybe because he knew she wouldn't be pining over him, or crushing over him.

That always made him feel uncomfortable, he remembered.

"The Prince is awake," Ryoma said. "Now what?"

Sakuno looked at him, bemused. Her hands rested in her lap, dress bunched up at the knees.

"Now what what?"

Ryoma frowned. "You said - wake the Prince. Then, I'll have answers - then, I'll go home."

"Do you have your answers?"

Ryoma paused.

"I'm not sure."

She smiled again. He was beginning to hate that smile.

"I think you do have your answers," she said. "You're just still processing it."

He paused again.

"And - about going home? Can Prince Fuji send me back?"

She shook her head.

"That's not his magic," Sakuno said. She turned away to look elsewhere and when Ryoma followed her line of sight, he saw that she was staring at the Prince. "His magic is peace."

Ryoma stifled a gasp.

Oh.

_Oh._

"Then - how am I going to get home?"

Sakuno turned back to him, wheeling herself around in order to face him properly.

"It's up to you now," she said. "You can go home when you want - you just have to want it enough."

"What? No red slippers or clicking my heels together?"

She laughed, but Ryoma wasn't sure if it was because she understood the reference or if it just sounded utterly ridiculous to her. And before he could ask, Tomoka appeared, holding a tray of plates of food and some drinks.

"Got dinner!" she cheered, holding out the tray.

Sakuno took it, resting it on her lap.

"Hungry, Ryoma-san?"

Ryoma held up a hand.

"I'm fine," he said, turning away from the couple.

 

*

 

Ryoma snuck away from the Hall, hiding himself in a small, secluded corner. He wanted time to think, to see if he could will himself back home.

He wanted home, and yet -

"You're him," a voice said.

Ryoma turned.

Prince Fuji stared at him, curiously. He smiled.

"Prince Fuji," Ryoma said, bowing respectfully as Tezuka had taught them.

"No need," Fuji said. He waved aside the bow. "I hear you're the one to wake me."

"I -" Ryoma started. "No, not really -"

Again, Fuji waved his protests aside.

"It's fine," he said. "I know - you're the one they kept talking about. Did you know? They're going to name you Guest of Honor."

A surge of panic overtook him.

"Wha-? But -"

Fuji smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "That's what I thought."

Then, he stepped into Ryoma's personal space. His hand reached for Ryoma's, squeezing it once.

Comforting. Familiar.

Ryoma felt oddly calm.

Fuji stepped back, surveyed Ryoma, eyes roving from the top of his head to the tailored clothes Tezuka had ordered and paid for.

"I told them no," Fuji said.

"Thanks."

A hand came out, touched the ends of Ryoma's clothes.

"I hear you're from another world - one where your friends and family are strangers to you here."

"I - yes," Ryoma said. His brain scrambled to figure out what Fuji was trying to say, why. "I'm trying to go home."

Fuji's eyes bore into him. His hand squeezed Ryoma's shoulder.

"You'll get there."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warn, the next chapter is the last one and it'll be the shortest chapter.


	20. moving on

**moving on**

 

Ryoma woke up.

 

*

 

Ryoma wanted home, wanted the Tokyo skyline, the hot bright lamps of night tennis courts. He wanted the house he grew up in, wanted to see it, to live in it again. He wanted to breathe the Tokyo air, wanted to walk through Shibuya amidst the fast-paced crowd.

He wanted to see Seigaku. Wanted to say -

-say something. Anything. He wasn't sure.

Fuji had long disappeared around the corner, back to the party. From the hallway, Ryoma could hear the laughter and the cheerful voices raising in pitch, lowering in volume as time passed. He could hear Yuta drawing their attention, presumably to welcome Fuji back.

He had enough of this place; he wanted out.

So Ryoma squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, and waited. Something seemed to sparkle from underneath his feet, bright and swirling with energy - a kind of magic that was reminiscent of Kikumaru's warmth, or Oishi's empathy, and of Momoshirou's boundless magicless energy.

" _You'll go when you're ready_ ," Sakuno's words echoed.

And he was going and going and disappearing and the world was fading away from his vision.

Before he blacked out, he realized he never said good-bye to Momoshirou, Kikumaru, or Oishi.

 

 

*

 

The heart monitor beeped. Voices rose in volume, suddenly ecstatic, suddenly energized.

It was hard to move; hard to lift any part of his body. His eyelids felt too heavy. He wanted sleep.

"Ryoma!" someone was saying.

A hand squeezed his lifeless one. He tried to squeeze back but even moving his fingers felt like too much effort. So he settled for remaining still, silent.

He slept.

 

*

 

"I wish he had at least said good-bye," a voice was saying when Ryoma came to.

Kikumaru rested his head against Oishi's, looking very pale and very tired. Dark circles decorated his eyes; he closed them.

Oishi's hand was on Kikumaru's knee, gently rubbing against it.

"It's hard to say good-bye," he said.

Momoshirou leaned against the window, silent.

Ryoma wanted to tell them he was there, that he could hear them, that he was sorry.

What came out was, "already missing me?"

The words echoed throughout the room. Ryoma imagined them bouncing off the stone walls, floor to ceiling, disappearing with every bounce as it failed to reach their ears.

He tried to will himself to appear visible to their eyes, but their eyes glazed over his apparition.

Even so, the words seemed to help.

The weight on their shoulders seemed to lessen, seemed to lighten.

Kikumaru hummed under his breath.

 

*

 

When Ryoma next came to, his vision was blurry with sleep. White spots dotted his vision and he blinked, trying to clear his view.

He coughed and from the corner of his eye, something rustled. A figure came over.

"Wha-"

"Shh," Fuji said. "Don't get up."

He helped Ryoma sip from a cup.

Ryoma took the ice cold water greedily, as though he had been wading through the desert for days. Water spilled from the corners of his mouth, landing on the pillow underneath his head, marking it cold. It both chilled and pleased him, to feel the contrast in temperature.

"F-Fuji-senpai?"

The last time he had seen him was - before he moved.

"Welcome back," Fuji said.

Ryoma stared at Fuji, eyes searching the older man's face for answers, for questions, for anything.

"I'm back," he said, simply. "I'm home."

 

*

 

 

"I'm home," he said, again and again and again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd that's it. I'm done, I'm finished. The ending came out differently than how I had imagined. While writing Black Dream, I thought that there would be a definitive relationship agreed between Fuji and Ryoma. However, as I was writing dream a dream, I realized that Ryoma did not want to be dating, that he needed more time to move on from his grief, from his coming to consciousness. So this ended up more ambiguous than how I had imagined.
> 
> Also - I'm very sorry at the length of this last chapter, but I do hope that chapter 19 made up for this. Likewise, I do hope you all enjoyed this journey with me. Please do leave feedback. I'm always appreciative of them and will listen to see how I can be better at writing.
> 
> Thanks again!


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